Scarlett stood enveloped in a vast, colourless void — endless stretches of white and grey as far as her eyes could reach.

An indescribable pressure bore down on her, threatening to subsume and erase her very being.

She just scoffed.

Reaching inward, she drew upon her Anomalous power. It stirred instantly, rising to meet the oppressive force pressing down on her. The contest was brief and entirely one-sided. Her power prevailed with barely a ripple of resistance. The pressure vanished—was itself subsumed—and her Anomalous power settled back into its resting state, subtly stronger after absorbing yet another fragment of its kin.

Colour bled back into Scarlett's vision as the world reasserted itself. Before her stood a seamless block of black stone, draped with tattered coverings of gold and oxidised copper, half-burnt and hanging in loose tatters.

Another of the Hallowed Cabal's strange altars, fallen so she could claim its power. It barely qualified as a challenge for her anymore. The resistance these altars offered was so pitiful that it felt like stealing candy from a baby.

Which, she supposed, she wasn't above at this point.

She turned from the altar, her gaze sweeping across the rough, shadowed cavern illuminated by the flicker of her conjured flames. It was very different from the other chambers she'd seen in Beld Thylelion — a sprawling warren of hollows and winding tunnels, sheltering stalagmites, clusters of rock crystal, and even the occasional fossilised creature.

Had she found this place before her run-in with Fate, she might have been baffled as to its purpose. She might have even questioned whether she was still in Beld Thylelion at all. But now, she recognised the truth. Areas like these served no true function. They were remnants. Memories of Fate's fracture. Slices of some world that had once existed, dragged into being here by sheer chance and the broken, protective instinct of Beld Thylelion itself.

Much of the ruins, she realised, were the same. The structure as a whole was one great construct, with arrays and glyphs woven through its walls to sustain it. But the chambers themselves? Those were much more arbitrary, cobbled together by the fracture. That's why there were unfinished Kilnstones, these twisting caves, and even literal chunks of mountains. They were just fleeting glimpses stitched together where they no longer belonged.

It was almost enough to make her laugh. She'd imagined there was some hidden grand design — that Thainnith must have intended something profound when creating this place. But she supposed he hadn't cared about more than securing the Tribute of Dominion and containing Fate's unstable fracture.

Something clinked under her foot as she stepped forward. She looked down.

The warped, scorched remains of a golden mask lay crushed beneath her heel, still faintly glowing at its centre. Moving her foot aside, her gaze drifted to the rest of the melted masks and charred corpses scattered around, all clad in dark robes.

Her eyes lingered on one figure whose robes were barely intact. A broad-shouldered, powerfully built man marked by white tattoos across his face. He'd been strong. All enforcer-level fighters from the Tribe and Cabal were. That said, this one had probably been on the weaker side. She didn't recognise him from the game, though she also hadn't bothered asking for a name.

They had all been dead men walking anyway.

This was the fourth Cabal group she'd eliminated.

She had honestly been surprised by just how many of them lurked in Beld Thylelion. With Fate's fracture gone, the threads of Fate woven throughout the complex had been left empty and purposeless. The rest of Fate hadn't reclaimed them yet, so when Scarlett returned, she found she could use those very threads to peer through the ruins. Through them, there was almost nowhere in Beld Thylelion she couldn't observe. That was how she'd tracked the Cabal groups, learning how widely they were scattered.

Most were in the upper levels, far from her and unlikely to cause trouble. But a fair number still lingered in the middle and lower levels, and they represented problems that should be addressed.

At first, she'd thought their distribution odd. But after dealing with the first group, she'd finally realised why, as well as how the Cabal had entered into Beld Thylelion in the first place. The altars they carried, infused with the Anomalous One's power, acted like beacons of sorts. The deeper the group was, the stronger the altar's power.

From that, and from her deepened understanding of Fate and Beld Thylelion, Scarlett concluded that the ruins themselves were responsible for drawing them in. What they summoned wasn't the Cabal specifically, but anyone or anything in its vicinity that diverged from Fate. That was why someone like Raimond had appeared here. His interactions with Scarlett would have set him slightly off Fate's path. Presumably, that was also how Ustrum had managed to delve so deep as well, somehow manipulating and preparing Fate's divergence ahead of time.

Exactly why Fate's fracture attracted those who diverged wasn't clear, but Scarlett had some theories. Chief among them that it was part of whatever design the fracture itself had wrought to bring about its dissolution, and, ultimately, the dissolution of Fate itself.

Whatever the reason, Scarlett intended to deal with most of these Cabal groups before she moved on to the final phase of her plans in Beld Thylelion.

She paused, drawing on her Anomalous power to reach through the threads coursing throughout the ruins, searching for Arnaud's presence. Much like peering through the threads of Fate, it was far from precise. Details were hard to pick out, but she was familiar enough with Arnaud to find him. He wasn't far from where she'd left him on one of the middle levels, seemingly in the middle of a fight.

Most likely with another Cabal group.

Scarlett had expected to encounter at least some Undead Council contingents while cleaning up, yet none had appeared so far. Maybe there weren't any left. It was possible the Council had pinned all of their hopes and resources on Ustrum's simulacrum, trusting him to succeed in whatever scheme he'd devised.

To be fair, had he succeeded, they could probably have handled everything else in Beld Thylelion with ease. An undead lich wielding the dying shards of a god's power would have been more than a match for Scarlett or any of her allies.

But just these Cabal groups? Those, she could handle.

[Name: Scarlett Hartford] [Skills: [Major Mana Control] [Superior Pyromancy] [Argent Pyrokinesis]

This novel's true home is a different platform. Support the author by finding it there. [Superior Hydromancy] [Major Hydrokinesis] [̼̭̬̋̈́̒͜ ̧̘̜́ͣ͛͛ͅ ͚̜̓͜ͅ ̢̰͚̾̏ͅ ̮̿͆̒͠ ̢̾̏ͅ ̢̰̾̏ͅ]] [Traits: [Dignified August] [Supercilious] [Cavalier] [Callous] [Overbearing] [Conceited] [Third-rate Mana Veins]] [Mana: 6395/13131] [Points: 70]

Her eyes remained on the skill list, where one skill was highlighted with a silver lustre.

[Argent Pyrokinesis]

She'd pursued that skill for a long time, and it was…everything she thought it would be, and more.

It no longer mattered how many Cabal Ascendants came after her. As long as she had mana, none of them could touch her. The strongest among them could still be dangerous, but…

She was only wary of Vail.

And for reasons she couldn't confirm, Vail was nowhere to be found.

She wasn't entirely certain yet, but she was almost convinced. If Vail had been here, she would almost definitely have stood among the threads. Why she would be absent, Scarlett didn't know. She'd asked herself that question more than once, but it didn't matter right now. What mattered was her not being here, and how that made things simpler.

Though if Vail had been here, Scarlett would simply have thrown Arnaud at her to stall for as long as necessary.

A flicker in the threads caught her attention. Her focus sharpened, weaving her awareness through the pathways of Beld Thylelion and registering the subtle movements within a specific area.

Her expression darkened.

One of the first threats she had faced after sending Arnaud off hadn't been a Cabal group, but an individual — someone whose presence had surprised her, even if, in hindsight, she should have anticipated it.

Encountering Ovethatake—one of the game's companions—in person had been strange. Especially after facing several of his reflections before. Finding him that deep within the ruins was the most unexpected part. It suggested that he'd diverged more from Fate than she'd ever imagined. Still, given his ties to both the Undead Council and Ustrum, perhaps it wasn't so shocking after all.

Dealing with him hadn't been hard, though. He wasn't necessarily weak, but Scarlett had caught him off guard, and she knew how to neutralise him effectively.

But his presence wasn't the real problem. It was what it foretold. What would inevitably follow.

Her eyes flicked to the side, settling on the system window that had hovered near her ever since she split off from the others.

[Side questline: A Hero's Gauntlet] {They say a hero is only as worthy as the villains who stand against them. With Fate's fracture gone, the Tribute of Dominion is about to be claimed. Those who seek to corrupt it gather in secret, while others rally to stop them. A group of brave, determined souls has faced untold danger and sacrifice to save this world, but one final obstacle remains — someone whose careful schemes to claim the Tribute cannot be allowed to succeed} [Objective: Be the villain. Stop the hero's party] [Reward: Continuation of your plans] [Failure: Demise]

Scarlett reread the text in silence, a cold anger simmering in her chest.

One of these days, she would find the entity behind this system and make them pay for everything they'd forced upon her.

But not today. Today, she had to swallow that anger. Today…it was time for her to finally play the role of Scarlett Hartford, Third-rate Villainess.

Scarlett Hartford.

What was Scarlett doing here?

Leon wasn't sure he could trust his own eyes — this place made the real feel imagined.

But that unreadable, cold gaze… It truly looked like Scarlett. Only now there was a danger about her that he had never seen before.

Both Leon and Dame Smythe tightened their grips on their swords.

"…Baroness Hartford?" Princess Regina's voice asked behind them. "What…?"

"Scarlett," Leon spoke grimly. "Why are you here?"

Scarlett's eyes slid to him, distant and detached, as if studying an unimportant stranger through a window. The chill of it crept down Leon's spine. It was just like the Scarlett he used to know, before she changed.

She raised the dagger in her hand, a dark red flame shimmering at its tip. With a flick, she drew it through the air, and a gleaming trail of fire split the chamber's floor.

"None of you shall cross this line," she said.

Leon watched the flames with caution. They looked like ordinary fire, but, like Scarlett, they carried an unmistakable menace. Something that promised more than mere heat.

His jaw clenched. "Scarlett. Explain yourself."

He couldn't wrap his mind around how she was here, but then again, nothing about her had made sense these past months. Fixating on that was useless. What mattered was her intent. Why she was standing here, blocking their path.

"Ah, ah—Baroness…why…?"

Leon turned. Mel, hunched in her robes, stared at Scarlett with wide, trembling eyes, a shaking finger raised in disbelief.

Of course. They knew each other. And judging by Mel's reaction, that might be a problem.

"Baroness, ah, no—no," the woman stammered, pulling her hand back and tugging at the bandages on her face as she looked down. "She wouldn't…no…she wouldn't… The Baroness is kind—kind—why did she…?"

Skye stepped protectively in front of Mel, her glare sharp as she faced Scarlett. "Who are you? How do you know Mel?"

Scarlett said nothing. Her gaze moved to Skye, observing her with a flat, assessing look.

Beside Leon, Dame Smythe changed her grip on her sword and shifted forward, ready to protect Skye.

He couldn't blame her. For just a heartbeat, he could have sworn Scarlett radiated pure, unfiltered rage, only for it to have vanished in an instant, leaving only her cool composure behind.

The seconds passed, then Scarlett turned back to Mel.

"Countess," she said. Mel's head jerked up. "I am surprised to see you alive. I thought Ridley had killed you."

Mel's eyes widened even further, panic flashing. "Ah, ah, no—the bad man…you didn't…did you tell him…? No, no, you were kind—kind."

Scarlett shook her head. "Still the same as ever, it would seem. And these are your new companions, Countess? An interesting group to travel with."

"I—I, no…not Countess," Mel said, voice quivering. "…Melody. Skye gave me…a new name."

Scarlett raised a slight eyebrow, pausing. "…I see." Her gaze shifted back to Skye, who was still glaring. "An idealist, I assume. Here for the Tribute. You should turn back."

"We're not turning back now," Skye snapped, stepping fully in front of Mel. "Especially not for someone like you. Were you the one who hurt her before?"

"Hurt her?" Scarlett asked. "She has not told you…?"

She shook her head. "No. Does it even matter? Whatever the answer, it is irrelevant." She lifted her dagger again, the blade angled past Leon towards the princess. "I will give you one more warning, out of respect for Her Highness. Leave."

Skye took a step forward. "Not happening."

Scarlett's expression barely changed, though for just the briefest of moments, Leon thought he glimpsed a flicker of what might have been exasperation cross her face.

"Baroness Hartford," Princess Regina said carefully. "…What exactly is your purpose here? We don't have to be enemies. We only wish to protect the empire. The empire, and the rest of the continent."

"I am aware," Scarlett replied.

The princess hesitated, searching her face. "Then why…?"

"My reasons do not concern you, Your Highness. As I said — leave."

Leon's aura flared, a protective force as he moved to block Scarlett's gaze. "Scarlett. Do you understand what you're doing?"

She met his eyes calmly. "Perfectly, Sir Leon."

"You're threatening to harm Her Highness."

"I am warning her to leave precisely so that I do not have to harm her."

"There's not much difference."

"Perhaps. But that is the reality." Her voice turned icy. "Now, I will only say this once more. Leave."

Leon's eyes narrowed.

He knew Scarlett. Or at least, he thought he did. She never acted without reason. He'd thought maybe she was turning over a new leaf lately, but her presence here suggested otherwise. The problem was that Scarlett never took risks unless she was certain of the outcome, and every instinct in Leon's mind was currently screaming that she had reason to be confident.

A quiet, unsettled voice kept asking what she was really hiding. Where did that cold confidence come from? That undercurrent of danger he was feeling? Was it possible she was working with the Hallowed Cabal?

He glanced to the side, meeting Dame Smythe's eyes. There was a steady resolve there.

He looked to Skye and the Princess.

He didn't want to fight Scarlett. But if she refused to stand aside, they had no choice.

Princess Regina drew her sabre, face set with determination. Skye's weapons flashed into her hands. Leon and Dame Smythe both braced themselves, their auras surging.

Scarlett regarded them all, then clicked her tongue softly. "So that is your answer." She raised her free hand and snapped her fingers. A sea of brilliant fire erupted behind her. "Then I suppose we will have to settle this the other way."

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