The hours passed by, with the sun casting its bright luminescence over the southern End-World. There wasn't a single cloud in the sky, the fresh wind dispersing everything on its path. A beautiful day that was at odds with the low-spirited atmosphere surrounding the punished stagecoach.

"Don't overexert yourself, yes? Carefully..." Severus said to the vilecross, as if the beast could understand his every word. She maintained the transport's constant speed on the abandoned road despite the poison circulating through her body and with a certain slowness that she herself regulated at will. "Rest whenever you want."

"GRAAAA!" the demon roared in a show of strength, although with pain and fatigue certainly evident in small whimpers that were impossible to conceal.

Still, Milla didn't seem like she was going to give up yet. That pacified the worries of the blood elf a little, and he looked over his shoulder at the two passengers.

Auron was lying lengthwise on the seat. His hat resting on his clasped hands on his chest, and his face still partially covered by his black handkerchief. There wasn't much that could be done for him in that circumstance, considering a proper burial. Not with time running out and the possibility that the vilecross wouldn't be able to finish taking them to their destination.

Without Auron, the defense planned to save the Mercer-Archeos had been drastically reduced. Every minute remaining before the Coven's attack had become more valuable, in terms the gunslinger would have used.

On the other hand, Tristessa, who was sitting on the floor and leaning against a mountain of dirty and old clothes… Before Severus' eyes, she seemed to be meditating, with both hands firmly in her lap and eyes closed.

But what she was actually doing was using her [Divinity of the Dark Room] and occupying that sector of her mind palace called the Projector Room.

She was sitting in the lone red armchair. Her body leaning forward, staring without blinking and biting her nails as she reviewed the entire memory of the Wraith attack on that gigantic screen.

"Mistress?"

Standing beside her was Lenore, paying more attention to her than to that part of the memory being projected. Where Auron kicked Tristessa to prevent Stormcrow from stabbing her, and as a result, receiving the attack himself.

"Mistress…" the servant mumbled, her concern evident in the tears that wormed down her face. "The purpose of this room should not be to (torture/torment/punish) yourself. You are not learning from your mistakes by doing this. You are not learning about the assassins. Nor about their intentions, nor how to defend yourself against them during another attack."

"…"

The girl did not respond or pay attention to the voice of her conscience. She just watched that scene over and over again, as if waiting for something different to happen to change the fate that had already been written in that timeline.

"Auron… You acted like a mercenary who only cared about soul-jewels, but you were a hero," she whispered softly, her voice betraying the deep sorrow she felt. "I wish I was like you… Not a fucking coward that can't stop shaking after…after…"

The projection showed the moment in which she stabbed Stormcrow to death. Her trembling hands still remembered the feeling of the blade opening its path into her back…

"F-fuck…"

Then the projection moved forward until it stopped on the image of the gunslinger lamenting over not being able to reunite with his beloved, Melinda, making Tristessa feel even worse about herself.

"Fuck!"

The girl with gray eyes reddened from crying jumped up and kicked the armchair. Her force, amplified exponentially in that mental plane, managed to send it flying toward the wall and shattered into dozens of pieces upon impact.

Lenore didn't move an inch at such display of irrational anger, but she did look up at the ceiling, as did her mistress, upon hearing a voice that echoed throughout the Dark Room.

"Tristessa…" It was Severus's voice, calling her.

She opened her eyes in the real world, surprised that the blood elf was speaking to her after so many hours of silent treatment. She noticed he had tied his hair back in a ponytail, and his piercing blue gaze directed at her was filled with regret and discomfort.

"What's wrong?" she asked, making a great effort not to look to her left, towards Auron's body. What little emotional stability she had managed to gather depended on it. "Do you feel like talking to me now?"

"…" That passive-aggressiveness made the elf open and close his mouth, a prelude to the nervous stutter that forced him to clear his throat. "Come, look at this."

Thanks to her stirred curiosity, Tristessa stood up and it was at that moment that she realized they had stopped. There were no more trees around, only plains with the occasional imperfection in the form of hills and sporadic trees.

Having passed its peak, the sun was very strong and… And the smell of Death was very hard to ignore.

"Oh! It's… the Derelict Outpost."

Sure enough, as she crossed over what remained of the wooden wall and sat in the driver's seat next to the elf, Tristessa could see in the distance that small fortress where the Meridion roads intersected.

"Yes. I wanted you to see something before we continue," he told her, offering her a copper goblet filled with cool water, which she didn't hesitate to accept. "Watch."

With his wand, Severus had previously cast a thaumaturgy spell in which he had marked his thumb and middle finger with non-elemental glyphs. When they formed a circle, the air around the fingers became a kind of magnifying lens. The light was refracted as it passed, functioning in the same way as a telescope.

Tristessa let Severus place his fingers a few inches from her right eye, allowing her to see the outpost in perfect detail. What she saw was a place in ruins, much more than she remembered: the tower had fallen, several walls reduced to piles of bricks, and packs of wild aracrosses roamed nearby.

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"The last time I passed by here, the place wasn't like that. Something happened, something terrible..." the blood elf said, canceling the magic on his fingers once Tristessa stopped looking. "When you were on your way to Entrana, was the outpost already in this condition?"

Tristessa's silence and stare fixed on the ruined structure were worth more than a thousand words, but she still told him what had happened during the night she spent there.

The night of the Dullahan's first appearance and the massacre of Madame Luchie's Caravan.

"So… Five mercenaries and an old woman from Crywolf perished before your pursuer," Severus said minutes later, surveying the outpost as he patted Milla on the back, who was sipping water from the only barrel that had survived the Wraith attack intact. "What a formidable foe. I still think about her a lot, you know? The way she withstood my bloodflame… Very few beings can defend themselves against that kind of magic, even coming from the worst thaumaturge in Entrana."

"We should try to hide by nightfall. Far from the Mercer-Archeos home, if we get there in time," Tristessa opined, trembling at the possibility of the Dullahan becoming a threat to the people they sought to save. "We can't allow her to interfere… If she finds me, I won't be able to escape."

The voice of her Nemesis echoed inside her head, repeating its threat and the inevitability of the promised confrontation.

"You have no idea how it felt to be in her presence last time. I thought she was going to steal every last drop of life from my body without even touching me."

"I remember your very weak condition, Tessa. The Dullahan…" The blood elf hesitated for a moment before asking her something he needed to get off his chest. "Is that monster native to your world?"

As he asked that question, he took a roasted cake from a basket that had undoubtedly been a gift from Higgs Vendrick and handed it to Tristessa in a sort of diplomatic gesture.

"You took too long to ask me about that subject, didn't you?" she hissed, hungry, but still without taking a bite of food. She did her best not to sound nervous, even though it had been hours since Severus had learned the truth. "Is that why you weren't talking to me? Because I'm a supposed enemy of the Empire?"

"…"

Silence, showing that Severus was also carefully considering what to say. The trust that had built between them in those fleeting two days was at stake.

"It's not every day that one encounters an inhabitant of another world. I needed to think about it a bit…" he said, throwing pieces of roasted cake into Milla's mouth. "Do you know why Strangers are hunted and killed?"

"No…"

A strong gust of wind reached them from the south, coming from beyond the frozen peaks of the end of the earth. The green grasses of the plains pushed northward, and even the compromised frame of the stagecoach creaked as if in agony.

A cold wind, capable of eclipsing all the warmth of the approaching sunset.

"The Shadow Queen and the [Seven Great Evils], each and every one of them, are Strangers. They came to this world over five hundred years ago, and they are the ones leading Nekrom to its destruction up to this day," the blood elf revealed, his words laced with contempt. "When the ancient Kingdom of Exilia fell and the Empire of the Night's Watch arose in its place, we adopted a preemptive policy of executing anyone suspected of being a Stranger."

The implications were terrifying. If people from another world had truly arrived in Nekrom and were causing so much damage... Then Tristessa understood Tiara's deep hostility toward her.

And the worst part… What if those Strangers had come from the same world as her?

"But… What about those brought here against their will?" she asked. "Even a worthless person like me?"

"No exception. And you've seen that I'm not exaggerating. I don't know who alerted the Imperial authorities of your existence and the possibility that you are a Stranger. But with just a suspicion, they dispatched Wraiths to kill you, and Auron and me by association. Do you see how serious this is?"

"Yes… So, what do you think, Severus?" she asked, afraid to know the answer. Silence in response, an indirect confirmation that brought Tristessa's spirit closer to the edge, facing the abyss. "Are you going to kill me?"

The blood elf didn't look at her. His eyes, precious as sapphires, were focused on the ruined Derelict Outpost, perhaps to maintain control over the obvious anger flowing through his veins in the form of magical energy—magic points—that he was recovering naturally at a slow pace.

"I… needed to think about it a little… All my life I've been preparing to find members of your kind and rip out their hearts with my bare hands, gut them, and flay them in the name of my ancestors…"

Severus's fury was such that even Milla glanced at her master, wise enough to understand that there was a certain air of danger around him. And don't even mention Tristessa: she saw the elf's fists white from clenching so tightly that, despite her great faith in Severus, she was still frightened.

Just when the hellish heat produced by his magic began to influence the immediate surroundings, Severus closed his eyes and took a deep breath. The heat receded, his anger diluted slowly, as he pushed his unbridled desire for vengeance back to the depths of his troubled spirit.

"…but now that I have a Stranger at my side, the only thing I'm sure of is that she is not my enemy. I don't hate her, nor do I want to harm her… I want to protect her, and face at her side the Darkness that is coming for us and our mutual friends."

The blood elf nodded repeatedly, more to himself as if confirming that what he had just said was correct. Upon seeing the dark-haired young woman's face again, Severus smiled the way she so liked, full of charisma and confidence.

"I just hope my ancestors don't hate me for feeling this way."

Despite the deep remorse she felt within her, Tristessa decided to embrace that glimmer of joy and leaned toward the elf. She left a kiss on his cheek, causing him to release a nervous and uncomfortable chuckle.

"I'm sorry about that, but you deserved it. And about your ancestors... They should know that I only want to save the Mercer-Archeos. I need to achieve this, not only for them, but for Auron... So that his Death has not been in vain," she said, briefly shifting her gaze toward the interior of the coach, where the gunslinger's corpse called to her, seeking an unholy reanimation that she would later regret. "The aftermath… It will depend on my lost memories, and what happens the day after tomorrow, if the Dullahan hasn't killed me first."

"No, she won't. You'll see: we'll take care of the Dullahan and the Coven. We'll have our victory, Tessa. I promise you."

With their alliance strengthened and their mutual trust growing, Tristessa and Severus prepared to continue their journey to the Sea of ​​Trees, forced to deviate from the main road in order to avoid the Derelict Outpost and the dangers surrounding it.

Tristessa couldn't sense the corpses of the Fireclaw Company members with her Divinity from that improvised path, but she was certain they were still there, desecrated and without a well-earned rest.

Soon, she was going to pay her respects. She needed to, as an apology that was not going to fix anything.

"Tessa?" Severus called her attention, guiding Milla by the pulls on her chains. "You didn't tell me if the Dullahan is from your world. Or anything about it."

"Oh! Well... I don't have much to say due to my amnesia, remember? My world is... A place with its own set of problems," she replied, without elaborating. "Different from Nekrom's, sure, but presenting their own challenges."

"Really? Like what? Some Dark Lord wanting to rule everything?"

"I told you: different problems!"

"Then what about magic? Do you use the same pseudo-numerical system or…?"

"Damn it, you won't stop asking me questions for the rest of the journey, will you?"

The elf burst out laughing. A perfect contrast to all the desolation and Death surrounding them, in that abandoned region, like a light that lingered as the sun began to set.

"You already know me well enough."

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