Beatrix had always been told that the two personalities within her, the remnants of herself and the Bloody Woman, had already molded into one. It wasnât like what had happened with Raze, where the Bloody Womanâs presence had been a voice lingering in his mind, haunting him like a shadow.
For Beatrix, it was different.
In the end, it was her personality that had taken dominance. She was the one at the forefront, her own will intact. To her, it didnât feel like anything had changed, her thoughts were the same, her emotions the same. Even her morals remained untouched.
But there was still fear.
She could access the Bloody Womanâs power now, the blood-soaked energy that slept deep within her veins. Yet every time she called upon it, she feared what it might cost. The more she used that strength, the more she worried she would lose pieces of herself.
It had happened once before, at the Wilton Academy assessment. Sheâd felt the power rise inside her like a tide, swallowing everything else. That same dread now lingered in her heart, whispering that the more she gave in, the less of
her
would remain.
So, for a long time, she avoided it. She used her own Qi, her own strength, and only brushed against that deeper power when she had no choice.
But now... after seeing her allies die right in front of her, people who had done nothing but fight for justice, something inside her cracked.
She didnât want to control it anymore.
âYouâre in me somewhere, right?â Beatrix thought desperately. Her body trembled as she pressed a hand against her chest. âMaybe youâre not watching, maybe youâve faded, but your powerâs still here. So take it. Take control and destroy every one of them. I donât care anymore, just end this!â
She waited for a voice, a spark, anything. But there was no answer. No whisper. No pulse of power.
Only silence.
Beatrixâs knees hit the ground. Her sword slipped from her fingers and clattered beside her. Tears spilled down her cheeks, dripping into the dust below.
Across from her, Yellum hovered midair, her radiant wings casting a golden glow over the field. She tilted her head slightly, watching Beatrix with a mixture of pity and disgust.
"Come on," Yellum sneered. "Youâre crying? Over
this
?" She gestured toward the scorched ground where Beatrixâs allies had fallen. "Were they your family? People you actually cared about? I doubt it. You probably barely knew them, and now youâre weeping like a child."
Her lips twisted into a smile. "People like you make me sick."
This was her chance. The last exchange hadnât injured Beatrix, but now she was broken, emotionally shattered.
Yellum raised her hand, golden light forming between her fingers. "Pathetic," she said. "Crying over the dead? You donât even understand what sacrifice means."
The beam formed, a concentrated spear of light, smaller than her previous attack but focused and lethal. It shot from her hand, cutting through the air toward Beatrixâs head.
"This is mercy," Yellum whispered.
But just before it struck, a hand rose from the ground.
Beatrixâs hand.
Her fingers closed around the beam, stopping it midair.
The light hissed and crackled against her palm, the energy thrashing wildly, but it didnât burn her.
âWhat... what is this?â Yellum thought, her eyes widening. âThatâs pure mana energy! Even without an affinity, itâs stronger than ordinary magic! She shouldnât be able to touch it, let alone stop it!â
The beam of golden light began to dim, and Yellum noticed something else. Around Beatrixâs hand, a faint red aura had begun to swirl. The crimson light pulsed and twisted, consuming the golden glow that had once been Yellumâs attack.
Slowly, Beatrix began to rise. Her head stayed bowed, her hair falling forward, shadowing her face. The red energy around her hand grew brighter, thicker, spreading up her arm like liquid fire.
"What is this?" Yellum shouted, her voice rising with frustration. "Is this another one of your tricks?"
Beatrix didnât respond.
"You think this changes anything?" Yellum screamed. "All of you are going to die! Every last one of you! When this is over, the Cerebus Guild will be praised as the saviors of Alterian!"
Yellum thrust both hands forward. Twin beams of golden light erupted from her palms, surging toward Beatrix. Her wings stretched wide, glowing brilliantly as she poured everything she had into the attack.
The air trembled. The ground cracked beneath the force.
But Beatrix didnât move.
The golden energy slammed into her body, into her outstretched hand, and stopped. It didnât push her back. It didnât burn her skin. The crimson aura around her hand absorbed it, devouring every spark.
The light twisted and coiled, feeding the growing red flame that now danced up Beatrixâs arm.
"Impossible," Yellum whispered. She poured more power into her attack, her teeth gritted, sweat forming across her forehead. But no matter how much energy she released, the result was the same.
The red aura only grew stronger.
The beams of golden light began to dissolve, swallowed whole by the crimson power. The air around Beatrix shimmered like heat off molten metal.
Then, she made a fist.
The swirling red energy surged, crawling up her entire arm, coating it like liquid blood until it glowed brighter than any flame. Her hand clenched tight, and with a single motion, she swung her arm forward.
The punch didnât even touch Yellum directly.
But the shockwave that followed did.
The explosion of power was deafening. The ground split beneath Beatrixâs feet. The red energy collided with the golden light and shattered it instantly. The sky itself seemed to flicker as the two forces clashed, and a burst of crimson light ripped through the field.
Yellum screamed.
The force tore through her defenses, through her armor of light, through her very body. When the energy cleared, she looked down in disbelief, her entire right arm was gone.
Not burned. Not severed. Simply... gone.
Erased.
Pain radiated through her body as she stumbled backward, clutching at the space where her limb should have been. Her golden wings flickered and dimmed.
âWhat is this power?â she thought, panic clawing at her chest. âThat energy, itâs not mana... itâs something else. Itâs alive.â
Her body trembled as she stared at Beatrix.
***
*****
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