David took a deep breath and chuckled. "Well, as long as you're on our side, it's fine either way."

Fleur looked mildly insulted. "You! Argh! Why your words piss me off?!"

He seemed ready to reply but the sky suddenly turned crimson. Above them, a massive sphere of fire descended like a falling star, roaring toward the earth with the promise of destruction.

Fleur clicked her tongue. In a blink, both she and Ulrich vanished, their forms flickering out of sight as they evaded the incoming blaze.

David, left behind, could only mutter, "Fuck!"

Before the fire could consume him, his body was suddenly lifted from the ground, Lulu had him in her arms, sprinting with desperate speed as molten heat erupted behind them.

The once-lush garden burned to ash, the explosion leaving behind a field of blackened ruin.

They regrouped among the shattered stone pillars, the air thick with smoke and the faint hiss of cooling embers.

"Helper from Draemir?" David said dryly, brushing soot from his arm. "You know, you could've carried me too."

Fleur shrugged, a faint smirk tugging at her lips. "Oh, forgive me. You looked like someone ready to die dramatically. I didn't want to ruin the moment."

"Enough," Ulrich interjected, his tone calm but firm.

"Both of you, stand down. We are allies, not bickering children." His voice carried quiet authority, smooth yet sharp like a blade polished by habit.

"You, you've fought her longer than we have. Surely, you've learned something about her worth by now."

David opened his mouth to respond, but no words came. The truth lodged in his throat, bound by the blood pact with the Corvane.

He couldn't speak of what he and Lulu had witnessed moments ago, the sight that had left even them, hardened as they were, utterly shaken.

.

.

.

The garden had not looked like this when they first arrived. At first it had been orderly and tame, but now it seemed to stretch forever, an endless patchwork of hedges and flowerbeds that refused to end.

The moment they reached the crow cage, they knew they had arrived. A chorus of crows filled the sky, their cawing sharp and predatory as they wheeled above the greenhouse in the center.

Vines had grown until they became thorned ropes, and the riot of color in the beds had been reduced to a thousand red roses clinging to bare stems.

Crows perched everywhere, black and still, watching. They did not strike. They only stared.

In the middle of the garden a half sphere of glass rose like an altar. Through it they could see Elle's body, pale and motionless with her chest cut open.

There was no blood and no organ within the hollow. Dark veins moved beneath the surface, arranging themselves into a heart of red crystal that pulsed as if it had been beating for years.

When the crystal settled, Elle's eyes opened and burned with a cold red light. It became clear that the body was a puppet and that the true puppeteer hid somewhere among the crow cages.

As soon as she fixed her gaze on David and Lulu, the world threw them outward into the maze.

.

.

.

"We cannot tell you that," David said, his voice thin. He swallowed hard. "We are bound by a blood pact."

"You are impossible," Fleur said in a protesting hiss, but Elle cut her off with a voice that was both playful and cruel.

"Oh, now there are four of you," Elle sang. "That does not matter. I will win."

She hovered above them, ribbed wings of bone and muscle spread wide. Behind her a ring of fire bloomed with three small points of light at its rim.

Those points threw out blazing crystal like hunting arrows. The projectiles streaked toward them, and they scattered to avoid being struck.

Ulrich did not waste a breath. He drove his sword in a clean arc and split several crystals in two, then melted through the air like smoke as he moved to cut down anything that homed in on them.

Each shard fell apart like brittle glass under his blade.

"I will face her," Ulrich said, his voice composed and crisp.

"I can divert her attention. Fleur, make sure that talking head give us useful information."

Fleur glanced at Lucien and smiled between teeth. "Perfect timing," she said. "You will be useful at last."

Ulrich stepped forward through the haze of cinders, brushing a stray ember from his sleeve as though it were dust.

Above him, Elle hovered midair: childish and terrible, her skeletal wings unfolding with a wet crack. The fiery halo behind her flared wider, casting long, trembling shadows across the ruined garden.

"You came all this way for me?" she cooed, voice lilting. "How sweet, old man. Do you think you can dance with me in the air?"

"Since you know, you are old and dying." Elle laughed with her own joke.

Ulrich looked up, unfazed. "Dancing is for the undisciplined," he replied softly.

His voice was almost bored. "I prefer to suffocate my prey."

Smoke began to seep from his hands, tendrils rising like ink spreading in water. They curled and shimmered, delicate yet predatory. Elle's grin widened.

"Let's see if you can breathe then!"

She raised her arm, and the circle of fire behind her fractured, shooting hundreds of red crystals wreathed in flame.

The air shrieked as they fell. Ulrich merely tilted his head, eyes narrowing with a detached curiosity.

In a heartbeat, his form dissolved into black mist. The projectiles tore through empty air as the smoke reformed behind her, his sword gleaming briefly before it cleaved through her wings.

"AARRGGHH!!!"

Elle screamed, twisting in the air as her body disintegrated into burning shards. But before the ash even settled, another version of her stepped from the fiery circle, unscathed and smiling.

"How rude," she mocked. "Don't you know how hard it is to grow these wings?"

Ulrich sighed quietly. "And yet you persist in showing me such poor craftsmanship."

Her laughter was bright, brittle. Four more clones appeared around him, circling like vultures. "Then allow me to improve my design."

The world ignited. Fire rained from every direction, each clone moving with unnatural speed.

Ulrich's blade sang—a single graceful motion—and the smoke surrounding him coalesced into massive hands that tore through the air, catching one of the clones mid-flight.

The sound of her bones breaking was crisp.

The others closed in. Ulrich turned his wrist lazily, and the smoke around him pulsed outward.

The clones froze mid-charge as black mist entered their mouths, their bodies swelling grotesquely before bursting into crystal dust.

"Replication without restraint," Ulrich murmured, brushing a speck of ash from his collar. "How inelegant."

But the next instant, another wave of Elles appeared, reforming from the flame like reflections in shattered glass. Her laughter echoed in layers: high, manic, childlike.

"You can't kill me," they sang together. "I'm everywhere!"

"Everywhere," he echoed, voice calm, "but never whole."

He appeared before the nearest one in a flicker, his hand made of pure smoke closing around her throat.

"You mistake persistence for immortality."

The smoke poured into her veins. She gasped, body convulsing as her flesh warped, bones shifting, wings twisting into abominations.

Her scream became a gurgle before she burst apart in a flash of red.

But it wasn't over. Three more Elles emerged from the inferno, eyes blazing.

"Still breathing, old man?" one sneered. "Do you think that pain would stop me? I already through lot more than that!"

Ulrich adjusted his grip on his sword, eyes half-lidded.

"Poor girl, that's why you are wildfires." he said simply, and vanished.

The garden became an arena of smoke and fire. Each time her crystal bolts streaked through the air, his form scattered and reappeared, the mist taking shapes: hands, claws, even the faint silhouette of beasts devouring her illusions. Every motion was graceful, deliberate.

"Stop hiding!" Elle screamed, voice raw.

"Very well."

Ulrich appeared directly before her, his blade already through her chest. Her eyes went wide, but before she could laugh again, he spoke softly:

"I get bored of you. You disappoint me."

Smoke spilled from his wound in her chest, snaking through her body. She trembled violently as the veins beneath her skin turned black, pulsing. Then, silence.

Her mouth moved, but no sound came out. Her body cracked apart like porcelain, collapsing into a pool of red shards. Ulrich stepped back, wiping invisible dust from his glove.

Then the shards began to hum.

He looked up just as the ground split beneath him, the fire circle erupting with new light. Dozens—no, hundreds—of Elles rose from the flames, each one identical, each smiling the same too-wide grin.

"How tedious," he muttered.

The clones raised their hands in unison, and the sky itself ignited. The fire took shape, forming a massive figure above them, half-human, half-demon, its molten horns dripping with light.

Elle's voice came from everywhere. "You look tired, old man. Shall I end you elegantly?"

Ulrich lifted his gaze, his expression serene. "Child, you mistake exhaustion for mercy."

The smoke gathered around him once more, swirling until it wrapped him like armor. His golden eyes glowed through the haze.

"Let us correct that misunderstanding."

The world broke apart in the next instant, fire clashing with shadow, sound vanishing under pressure. Smoke hands rose from the earth, gripping the fiery titan's throat. The sky bled red.

Then, nothing but blinding light and the faint echo of Elle's laughter dissolving into silence.

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