[Realm: Álfheimr]

[Location: The Deathless Fortress]

("That girl again?") Gretchen's eyes narrowed as she stared past the broken stone and scattered blood, fixing on the young girl who had placed herself so calmly in front of the crawling Koschei. ("Ella… was it?") The name surfaced slowly, as if her mind resisted giving it shape. She let it sit there for a moment longer than necessary, turning it over, testing how it felt.

Something about it unsettled her.

On the surface, there should have been nothing remarkable about the girl. She was young, almost too delicate in build, her posture relaxed to the point of carelessness. Her beauty was undeniable, yes—but beauty alone was not uncommon in the world Gretchen inhabited. Compared to what she had experienced, Ella should have been unremarkable.

And yet there was no mana.

That absence pressed against Gretchen's senses.

The fortress was already drained, the air thin and brittle without it—but humans were different. Even stripped lands could not take everything from them. Every human carried at least a residue, a faint ember of mana clinging stubbornly to flesh and soul. Most never noticed it, but it was always there.

Always.

Ella had none.

Not a trace. Not even a whisper. Just as before.

The realization crawled up Gretchen's spine, it was a cold and insistent feeling. A small, sharp feeling lodged itself at the base of her skull, growing louder by the second—an instinct screaming a single word she could not ignore.

Danger.

Her gaze turned sideways, just briefly, toward Tamamo. The fox spirit still lingered close, Gretchen's brows furrowed when she saw Tamamo's expression.

Gone was the teasing smile. Gone was the amusement.

Tamamo's eyes were sharp and focused. Serious in a way Gretchen had not seen before.

"E-Ella!" Koschei coughed from the ground, blood staining his lips as he dragged himself forward a few inches. "Quickly… you must heal me!" His voice cracked, the command hollow, stripped of authority.

"I must, huh?" Ella tilted her head, the gesture slow and almost playful. She clasped her delicate hands behind her back, rocking slightly on her heels. "Not even a please?" she asked lightly. "You really are so mean, Koschei."

Her grin widened just a touch.

Koschei scowled, eyes dropping to the ground as if the stone itself had suddenly become fascinating.

"There's no time!" he snapped, pain flaring through his voice. "I shall not—"

"Tsk, tsk." Ella waved a single finger, the motion dismissive. "You're so old, and yet you've got no manners at all. You're supposed to say pretty please."

His teeth ground together. Annoyance flickered across his face, but it couldn't fully take hold. Pain drowned it out, relentless and merciless. When agony wrapped itself around every nerve, pride became a luxury one could not afford.

"P-please…" he forced out, breath hitching. "Ella…"

She tapped her chin thoughtfully, eyes drifting upward as if considering the request with great care.

"Nah," she said after a beat, shrugging.

Koschei's head snapped up. "W-what!? But you—"

"How about an exchange?" Ella interrupted smoothly, cutting him off without raising her voice. She leaned forward slightly, crimson eyes gleaming. "Those pesky hexes you put on all the prisoners. And the guards. Remove them." She smiled sweetly. "Do that, and I'll heal you."

From several paces away, Gretchen watched, lips pressing into a thin line. Her gaze sharpened.

She took a step forward.

"Stop."

Tamamo's voice was quiet but firm.

Gretchen halted mid-step, turning her head sharply. "What is it?" she asked, irritation creeping into her tone. "She's about to heal him."

Tamamo didn't look at her. Her eyes remained locked on Ella.

"That isn't someone you have any hope of ever beating," Tamamo said flatly.

The words hit harder than expected.

Gretchen blinked. "What?"

"Keep your distance," Tamamo continued, her voice low, almost grave. "For now. If it comes down to it… I'll be the one to fight."

The weight behind those words left no room for argument.

Meanwhile, Koschei's face twisted with frustration. He clenched his remaining hand, nails digging into his palm. There was no leverage here—he knew that. Threats were useless. The hexes were his last bargaining chip, and even those felt flimsy in Ella's presence.

He swallowed.

"F-fine," he growled.

A translucent violet chain extended from the back of his hand, splitting and branching into dozens—hundreds—stretching outward in every direction. The sight was enormous in its scale, an invisible web made manifest. Too many to count. Too many lives bound within them.

Then the chains began to crack.

Hairline fractures spread rapidly, racing along their lengths like lightning. One by one, they shattered, breaking apart into shards of violet light that dissolved into nothingness.

"T-there," Koschei rasped, collapsing slightly as the last chain vanished.

Ella closed her eyes briefly, head tilting as if listening to something only she could hear.

"Hm," she murmured. A moment passed. "Alright," she said at last, opening her eyes again.

"You're pretty desperate, huh?" Ella said lightly, tilting her head as she looked down at Koschei. There was no heat in her voice just an almost bored observation. "I mean… you do realize I'm just going to kill you, right?"

Koschei's breath hitched. His fingers clawed weakly at the ground as he tried to gather himself, eyes darting as if searching for an angle, a lie, anything that might still save him. "T-then I'll—"

"You'll do nothing," Ella interrupted, her tone still casual. She crouched slightly, lowering herself closer to his level, crimson eyes studying him. "I saw how your hexes function. Honestly? They're not that hard to deal with."

Koschei froze.

Ella continued, apparently pleased with herself. "You interact directly with the soul of whoever you curse. That part is impressive, I'll give you that. Ninth-dimensional interaction isn't something most sorcerers ever manage." She gestured idly with one hand as she spoke, as if lecturing a student. "You create a binding between body and soul, then establish a set of rules—conditions. If the rules are violated, the hex activates." She scoffed softly. "It's… kind of simple."

Koschei's eyes widened, horror creeping into his expression as realization set in.

"If I'd known you were meddling with souls directly," Ella went on, straightening up slightly, "I wouldn't have bothered sticking around you for so long. Really feels like I wasted my time."

Her hands moved to the hem of her dress. She lifted it just enough to give herself room, raising one leg with effortless flexibility, her balance perfect and controlled.

"Well," she added almost cheerfully, "I am a devil. I lie. So don't take me not honoring our deal too personally."

"W-wait—!"

She didn't.

Ella's leg came down like a guillotine.

The back of her foot smashed into Koschei's skull with a brutal strike. Bone collapsed inward with a sickening crunch, the force driving his head into the stone beneath him. There was no scream—only the wet, catastrophic sound of something giving way that should never give way. Bone marrow and fragments scattered, brain matter splattering grotesquely across the ground.

It was over in an instant.

Ella recoiled slightly, grimacing. "Ugh. Disgusting," she muttered, wiping her foot against the stone as if she'd stepped in mud. "Should've just used magic." Her gaze drifted up then, landing on Gretchen and Tamamo as if she'd only just remembered they were there. "You're still here?" she asked flatly, already turning away from Koschei's corpse.

Gretchen didn't respond. Her eyes remained fixed on Ella, jaw tight, every instinct screaming that what she'd just witnessed wasn't normal—even by the standards she lived by.

Tamamo, however, leaned forward slightly, her tails swaying slowly behind her. "What is something like you doing here?" she asked, voice calm but filled with curiosity. "I doubt the Keepers of Order would approve."

Ella paused mid-step, blinking once as if genuinely confused. Then she shrugged. "Eh. It's not like I want to be here," she said. "Unfortunate circumstances, that's all." She waved a hand dismissively. "Besides, that Iofiel didn't seem to mind my presence."

Tamamo's ears twitched. "You've met her?" She tilted her head, eyes narrowing as a realization began to form. "Wait… are you the same—"

"I'm not letting you finish that sentence," Ella cut in immediately, deadpan. "Don't ask me why I'm doing what I'm doing. This is just a favor for someone." She flicked a strand of hair aside. "And my job's done here. About time, too. I was getting sick of this shithole."

Tamamo didn't move aside. "Hold on," she said. "What's your actual goal on Álfheimr? I doubt a being like you is just passing through."

Ella stopped again, exhaling slowly. "You really are a curious fox," she said, glancing over her shoulder. "That's my business. You should learn to mind it." She paused, then smirked faintly. "But relax. It's nothing heinous or world-ending. I'm just a sweet little angel, after all."

Gretchen stiffened at that, eyes narrowing further.

Ella rubbed her chin thoughtfully. "Still… I guess I can give you something interesting."

"Interesting?" Tamamo echoed, brows lifting. Gretchen remained silent, her confusion deepening.

Ella turned her gaze upward, toward the darkened sky above the ruined fortress. Her expression shifted—just slightly. The amusement faded, replaced by something harder to read.

"Did you notice," she said slowly, "the moon?"

Tamamo followed her gaze instinctively. "The moon…?"

"It's breaking," Ella finished.

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