"AHAHAHAHAHA!" A twisted, cruel laugh filled the stadium. It echoed through the coliseum.

Everyone shivered.

"AHAHAHAHAHA!!"

"The price is too cruel," Iris remembered about the time she told Hecate. She would have as much strength as she needed, but it would extract the price. She had not thought the price would be something like this or this soon. She jinxed it.

"At last," Diantha sighed. "As long as she blames me for it, she can find peace, and so will Stella," Diantha muttered, too low to reach anyone’s ears. Iris sat close to her, an unconscious decision, barely heard it. She pursed her lips. She was realizing Diantha’s philosophy.

As long as she blames Diantha for her guilt for forcing Hecate into this situation, and as long as Hecate blames Diantha for this situation, they do not need to bear the pain of their guilt. She would become the monster of their lives. She did not like Diantha; this was a path of self-destruction. People need to come to terms with their guilt; only then can they thread forward in life.

"Acceptance of self, be it imperfection, hatred, guilt, or anything else, is the only path to enlightenment. If she blames you, you are dooming her to mediocrity," Iris said, not loud, but it was not her usual calm and childlike voice; it held an edge. "She has done something she believes is wrong; to her, this is a crime; she needs to come to terms with it and slowly let it go—if you direct it to yourself, it will make both of your lives more miserable."

Iris stood from her seat and approached the glass plane. She felt like Diantha was an idiot when it came to kindness. Her desire to relieve pain failed to make her think of the future ahead. Or, she has some elaborate plan beyond the dumb, isolated inferior that I am. Iris thought ironically.

She looked at Ilona, and as she expected, enlightenment purchased her attention. Of course, she was not talking about some abstract concept when she said enlightenment.

"Enlightenment is impossible," Ilona said. It was a warning for her. The most foolish thing a mage can do is seek enlightenment.

"Of course," Iris agreed. Enlightenment did not exist; it was only the acceptance of self. The moment someone seeks enlightenment, they have already walked off the path of enlightenment, but it was a conversation for the far future. For Ilona and Hecate, it is long past the time she dies. Perhaps Winny would stay with them.

Her face was glued to the cocoon—ascension was over. Cracks spread from the cocoon. Iris's heart clenched. The one who would leave would not be the Hecate she knew, one who was like Winny. Laughter only intensified that thought.

….

"AHAHAHAHA!" The laughter grew eerie and louder. Sharp. Cold. Sinister. Unhinged. Everything Hecate was not when she laughed.

"143!" A loud, unhinged voice screamed. "AHAHAHA!" The cocoon crumbled, revealing a girl sitting on the floor. Pale wisps of smoke rose from her body. Her long black hair reached the floor, like a black waterfall. Her legs stretched out, and she had an unhinged smile on her face. She held the scythe in her hand.

The scythe was white; of course it would be; it was made of her sister’s soul after all. The blade was black, with red eyes on either side of the blade. And on the tip of the pole, there was a skull whose face burned with pale ashen black flames.

Hecate, no, she was truly Hella now. Her smile stretched even wider, and another laugh escaped her. As if she heard the funniest joke of her life, she laughed until her belly ached and tears started to fall from her eyes. She lay on her back, staring at the dead moon. "Hey, Cunt! Do you know what 143 is? Hecate screamed at the top of her lungs.

"WHAT!!" Rian may not be the smartest or most talented of the bunch, but when it was about screaming, even seven members of Roundtable would think twice before challenging him.

"NUMBER. OF. TIMES. I. KILLED. MY. TWIN." Hecate screamed, her smile stretching to the point where it seemed as if it would reach her ears. Everyone who saw that smile felt pain, grief, and the insanity with which Hecate was living. "I killed my sister 143 times. AHAHAHA!" Hecate laughed again. Until it turned to sobs, shaking sobs, then she laughed again, "Did I fool you into thinking I was sad?!" Hecate sat and stared at Rian, who for once was too creeped out to scream. "AHAHAHAHA, did you think I felt grief? AHAHAHAHA! I am a fucking reaper. WAIT TILL I REAP YOUR SOUL OUT! And Kill it," Her voice dimmed. "And again, and again, just like I did to her…" Tears streamed down her face; she wiped them off, then the smile stretched, and she went quiet. Her face seemed like a doll.

Rian did not go for the first move, as he was unsure if the high of ascension was part of the agreement or not. He was unwilling to risk it. The victory was still easy.

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"Shall we end the fight—Hecate, Level 5 Reaper," Hecate said; her voice was different. Emotionless. Indifferent.

Rian turned to the Imperial Knight, observing this battle, "Can I fight?"

Imperial was about to nod, but he paused. He, like Rian, was unsure. He had not seen this long and unhinged high before. He looked where Ilona was sitting. "Can he?" With the presence of Roundtable Rivals, he decided this was the best course of action.

"He can."

Rian Reed tightened his grip on the blade. He did not rush in first. He was a knight, Poise was his strength. Dealing with an unnatural class whose knowledge was nonexistent to him, he would play his strength.

"Scared, are we?" Hecate asked. She spun the scythe, then slammed the blade into the ground. A mixture of black and ash flames rose from the impact. Hecate tore a slit in the ground, and from it shot out chains. Pure white glowing chain matching her scythes color. Hecate clutched one and slung it out. Like a waterfall, every chain from the inside shot out and stuck into the barrier with their spearhead ends, creating a tangled mess of chains all over the stadium.

Hecate was doing this out of instinct. She knew what she was doing, and at the same time, it was knowledge ingrained into her brain by the system.

"Did you know, reapers jump around like unhinged lunatics and swing this long ass thing, hoping to cut their opponent? A pathetic class, if I say so myself," Hecate spat. "Regardless, let the Dance of Flame begin."

Hecate flicked, and an ashen black flame burned on the chains. Hecate jumped on the chain; it shot her forward like a spring. That was Flame Dance’s main ability—making chains springboard. So, using her speed and grace, she could fight someone stronger than her. Of course, she could use spells, but she would not risk it. The spells she could use with the reaper class were deadly.

Rian Reed gawked at the unnatural way Hecate jumped and shot forward. He positioned himself to meet her head-on. His sword was lowered, ready to cleave Hecate in half.

Hecate swung the scythe, and Rian did too. Except Hecate swung it on the ground, Impact flung her into the air. The world spun, and she landed on the chain in the air, with Rian right beneath her, not yet recovered from his swing. Hecate shot forward; her scythe’s blade burned with an ashen flame, and she swung it down at him.

Rian raised his blade to guard. At the last moment, Hecate twisted her scythe and sliced open his right arm. He hissed and swung at her. Hecate landed, dove, and grinned. The pole of her scythe swept his feet. He stumbled but didn’t fall.

Hecate jumped back and spun her blade in glee. "AHAHA, reeeally? Is it me or you’re incompetent?" Hecate drawled, a white flame circle formed from the burning skull. "I’m oh so tempted to end your life, but no, I can’t do that—one lucky little asslicker you’re, you know?"

Hecate dashed forth; Rian saw her trajectory and swung at the right moment. The air hummed from the dense mana within Rian’s sword.

Yet, Hecate’s was not where he swung; she somehow twisted to an unnatural degree and skidded to the side, almost painful to see. She whistled and jumped on another chain. Rian watched her shoot up at him. He waited until her scythe struck his chest. He smirked and grabbed her by the hair.

"Gotcha!" He hurled her up like she was a weightless doll and slammed her face first into the stage. And picked her up and slammed her again. Her hand was twisted, and blood dripped from her nose. Yet he felt a shiver when those blank eyes stared at him. A smile spread on her face. Scythe cut open another surface-level wound on his chest.

X

"BITCH!!" Rian hissed and slammed her into the floor. And again and again. Until some rationality returned to him, he hung her again to see her condition. She was still the same!

What!

A moment later, he realized she was no longer a caster. At Level 5, something like slamming on stage would not work.

Rian drove his knees into her guts, "AHH!"

Slick!

The scythe moved too fast for Rian to read. Another cut. Behind his knees. Rian paused. How? The scythe was cutting off armor-like clothes. He looked down; the armor was completely perfect. What! He stepped away from Hecate in alarm. The armor was intact; why did he feel pain? is feeling pain?

"What did you do?" He asked; his mind raced. Unknown Class. He was too lax.

He drove his sword into the ground; his body glowed—Knight’s class's unique skill: fortress. It dials the Poise to eleven and gives him a defense boost. The pain receded. Whatever it was, he could not completely destroy it.

"Nothing," Hecate replied. "Are you, like, stuck in that place?" She sighed, "Really?!"

Hecate dashed forward, and Rian swung and missed. Hecate jumped on another chain and shot forward; the metal clashed. Hecate used the impact to bounce off, land on the chains behind him, and shoot at him again. He deflected. Her momentum did not carry off, and she gracefully landed on the floor.

Her eyes widened, the ground lit up, and everything around her was going to burst. Hecate tried to jump at chains but was second too late.

"AHH!" Everything shone. She screamed as she tumbled into the air. The sharp rocks barely scratched her flesh. Hecate regained her position in a blink and looked for the nearest chain. Of course, she saw Rian swinging down his sword.

CLANG!!

Hecate defended herself with her scythe and was shot into the tatter stage. "UGH!" This time, she felt the pain. Rolled up and saw Rian at her again.

Clang!

She was weaker than Rian. The recoil sent Scythe back, and Rian’s sword cut open her chest. Hecate clenched her jaw and swung again. Rian was not dumb; he stepped back.

"Smart," Hecate chuckled; it was hard to stay insane in the pain. "Except, meet the Dead Collar."

Dead Collar had two abilities. One that could force any dead spirit to be her slave, and another that bound anything marked by the dead flame, the ash-colored fire burned on her scythe, using her Reaper's chian.

Her third skill chained anyone who was marked with death flames for one minute and drained all their mana. All the chains in the coliseum shot at him.

Rian defended himself vehemently, but the difference was too great. He failed, and his body was pierced by phantom nails, and then, slowly, the chains slithered him until he lost consciousness.

"AHAHAHA!" Hecate laughed and fell on her knees, sobbing. Over. She won. Now. She could proudly look at her lady and say, She was happy that she saved her.

"Winner: Hecate!"

The announcement drained all her adrenaline, and the blood loss from the wound pulled her consciousness into sleep.