Nick turned to look at his allies below, only to see that, unlike his own version of Sorrow’s Final Laughter, hers didn’t seem to affect his comrades. They were only stopped, stunned and staring in disbelief, as the most powerful charisma caster he’d ever seen used the strongest spell he’d ever known on a tidal wave of monstrous beasts, wiping them from the face of the earth in seconds.

“What in the hell is that spell?” Lassandra, who was arguably one of the greatest casters of Nick’s generation, asked as the three of them—battered, beaten, but victorious—watched the onslaught of the Black Witch’s magic. It was clear that the spell was less and less effective the higher the enemy’s level and rank, but it remained unmatched in speed and destruction as it wiped out every regular soldier from the monster army.

“That spell is not our problem, is what it is,” Rob blurted out, covered in his own blood as he chugged a healing potion. He pushed himself and his attention toward Wren, who was laid out cold in the snow. “Wren, you brainless broad, get up and stop playing dead, you’re scaring the rest of us.”

“I don’t think she’s playing,” Lassandra said, panicking as she reached Wren first, kneeling by her friend and lifting her into her arms.

“She’s not dead,” Nick said, rushing over as quickly as his mana fatigue would allow to check on the injured woman, shaking himself out of his mystified wonder at the final form of Sorrow’s Laugh.

“No, but she’s definitely halfway there,” Lassandra replied as she cradled Wren. “Rob, can—” She paused, seeing the condition Rob was in, before turning to Nick. “Can you hold onto her?”

“Yeah, I can,” Nick said, wishing he had the mana to just heal her as he picked up her body and got on the flying staff with Lassandra. He had to struggle to hold Wren tight with one hand in a way that wouldn’t make her injuries worse while still holding onto Lassandra with the other. The two of them left Rob and his crippled mount as they slowly flew down the mountain to where their allies and, more importantly, their healers were waiting.

Nick’s vision continued to get worse as he did his best to cling to Lassandra’s staff, the cold wind blowing so hard into his face that it was hard to even keep his eyes open.

“We're almost there,” Lassandra shouted over the howling wind.

As they descended from the mountain, the battlefield unfolded below them. A section of the bastion's walls were now crumbled and stained with blood. Deep craters dotted the ground, remnants of powerful spells that had been unleashed during the fierce battle. Everywhere there were signs of death and destruction: charred bodies, gruesome wounds inflicted by both magical attacks and physical weapons, and severed claws and limbs scattered about. Even some of the more powerful animalistic foes that hadn’t been consumed by the witch’s laughter were leaving behind wounded comrades in their desperate attempt to escape. But those who remained, too injured or stubborn to flee, were met with fierce resistance from powerful knights who surrounded them, determined to finish the fight once and for all.

Nick shook his head at the sight, part of him feeling guilty that he hadn't somehow prevented the deaths of so many people. But he clamped down on the sensation as he’d learned to control such reactions after living through the worst of the apocalypse.

As they touched down, Lassandra's staff wobbling slightly under their combined weight, Nick's allies quickly gathered around him. One of the priests was there in a minute, healing Wren without even being prompted as the group tightened up around Nick. Seo-ah reached out and touched Nick’s body as she looked at him, concern covering her face.

Stolen from its rightful author, this tale is not meant to be on Amazon; report any sightings.

“At least it’s over,” Seo-ah said, a sigh of relief escaping her mouth as her hand continued to linger near the wound.

Before Nick could respond, the thundering of hooves drew closer. The Black Witch, covered from head to toe in her blood-soaked regalia, reined in her stallion mere feet from their group. Her piercing gaze locked onto Nick.

“It is good we finally get the chance to meet,” the woman said after dismounting from her horse, walking up, and standing in front of him. Nick found it hard to even concentrate when he looked at the woman, her flowing blonde hair glittering like spun gold in the wind, her perfect porcelain face so mesmerizingly beautiful that it felt like her visage alone was a charisma spell being cast on anyone who could see it.

“Holy crap . . . it’s a female Nick,” Topaz blurted out as she looked at the woman.

At this point, Nick regained his senses for a moment, collecting his thoughts as he nodded at the Black Witch’s sentiment. “Indeed, it feels like we’ve known each other a long time.”

Just as the Black Witch was about to take Nick’s hand, however, Malcolm interrupted the whole ordeal as he pushed his way through the crowd, falling to his knees in front of the blonde saintess.

“My Lady,” he gasped out as he fell to his knees and lowered his head to the ground, surprising Nick, who watched the unexpected situation unfold. “My Lady, it’s really you.” The professor, who had carried himself with an easy composure the last few times Nick had seen the man, now looked like a blubbering fool and a zealot as he kept his head lowered to the ground, not even daring to look at the woman before him. “I did everything you asked my lady. I opened the rift, I relocated the portal, and I brought the armies of our world through the frozen hell to reinforce you. I did everything you asked.”

What . . . What is he talking about? Nick blinked in confusion as his head swiveled back and forth between the Black Witch and Malcolm.

“You did indeed,” the woman replied, smiling and placing a hand on top of Malcolm’s head. “And you will be rewarded for your actions. Go, enter the city and tell the steward of your coming. He is waiting for you with a position befitting your service and deeds.”

“What in the heck is going on?!” Maria demanded, voicing what everyone else, Nick included, was thinking.

“Thank you! Thank you so much, Lady Ingenga! I shall serve you well!” Malcolm exclaimed with joyous fervor, standing up and immediately taking off in the direction of the beaten-down citadel behind the witch.

Nick, having heard the name “Ingenga,” started to put together what had happened and who both Malcolm and the Black Witch really were.

“Lady Ingenga?” Nick stared at the Black Witch as if she had stuck a knife into his gut. The cult of Ingenga had been responsible for destroying cities, bringing about countless deaths, and the Black Witch, the woman he’d been leaning on to find his way in this new world, was the leader of that very same group.

“Come, Nick. I see you have many questions, and I have little time until the next trial. Come and follow me for the answers you seek,” the woman said as she took off her gauntlet and extended her delicate hand to Nick.

Nick hesitated for a moment, her true identity still sticking in his mind as he struggled to understand how things had unfolded. He had a thousand questions for her, but he also had a thousand reasons to hate her as he thought of all the devastation the cult of Ingenga had caused in his world, in this timeline and the last.

“Go, Nick,” Seo-ah urged, grabbing his left hand as she stood by him supportively. “We have to know the truth, the full truth. We have come too far to turn back now.”

“Yeah, I need to know, Nick,” Allen added through the drone speaker, its slightly robotic, choppy tone a complete contrast to the mood and setting as ViVi hovered next to them.

Nick, no longer hesitating since he had Seo-ah and Allen’s support, took the witch’s hand in his as a smile spread across her lips.