Doris wasted no more breath on words. Her lips began to move, shaping an eerie, silent chant in a language lost to time. Though no sound escaped her mouth, the effect was immediate. The air grew heavy, thick with a creeping malevolence. A dark aura swelled around her, coiling like an unseen serpent, building with dreadful tension.
Then, without hesitation, Doris flung out both arms—and her hands detached cleanly from her wrists.
Had Dahlia been conscious of what was going on, she would have frozen in disbelief. It was the same grotesque act Hecuba had once performed to scoop the potion she'd been forced to drink. But this time, there was no cauldron. No ritual offering. These hands weren't meant for ceremony—they were weapons.
The severed hands flew through the air, and as they did, their flesh rapidly withered away. In moments, only skeletal remains were left—gnarled, claw-like bones, snapping in midair like teeth seeking flesh, lunging straight at Ravenna.
Doris remained motionless. She simply watched, calm and composed, as if her eyes had relocated into the claws themselves, directing them with uncanny precision. They moved swiftly, weaving and slashing at Ravenna with unnerving agility.
But Ravenna was faster.
She moved like a whisper on the wind, gliding between the strikes with fluid grace. Her dodges, turns, and mid-air flips were seamless, every motion elegant and purposeful—less like a warrior, more like a phantom. Even under this bizarre assault, she was far from overwhelmed. If anything, she was in control.
Doris knew this. Her power in fetish craft was formidable, but when it came to pure combat—reflexes, swordplay, finesse—she could not match Ravenna.
"You should know better, Doris," Ravenna said coolly as she deflected another swipe, her tone steady even in motion. "This won't work on me."
Doris's jaw clenched. Irritation crawled beneath her skin like fire ants. With a guttural growl, she stretched her arms forward—and the skeletal hands instantly obeyed, racing back toward her. They snapped onto her wrists and reattached as though they had never been severed at all. No scar. No wound. Just seamless skin.
Ravenna paused, breathing lightly as she observed with sharp, knowing eyes. Doris wouldn't stop. Not until she was satisfied. And sure enough, the next wave came—this time, worse.
The air, moments ago still, convulsed.
From nothing, Doris summoned a tempest.
It roared to life with violent fury, its force so brutal that the other girls behind her scrambled back, shielding themselves as the gale scraped against their skin like razors. Dust, debris, fragments of earth—all lifted and danced violently in the storm.
And yet, at the center of it, Doris stood untouched. Her clothes remained perfectly still, her hair not even fluttering. She was the eye of the storm—stoic, eerie, inviolable.
Ravenna, however, struggled.
The force of the wind battered her relentlessly. Her footing slipped, the shrieking winds clawed at her garments, and her long hair whipped wildly in every direction. The dust cloud thickened, veiling her vision, choking the air. The tempest was relentless.
There was no way of dodging this.
So she didn't.
Ravenna braced herself and let the storm hurl her backward, crashing into the invisible barrier behind with a brutal thud.
A brittle sound cracked the air, like a spiderweb splintering across glass. But the invisible barrier held.
Ravenna groaned, pain jolting down her spine. Yet before her body could even slide down the invisible barrier, it rebounded—launched forward at a velocity far greater than when she had struck it.
She had counted on this.
Even in the midst of Doris's madness, Ravenna had kept her mind sharp. She had made her calculations in the midst of the attack. She already knew how the barrier works. And she knew exactly how to turn it to her advantage.
Doris wasn't ready.
Caught off guard by the rebound, she barely had time to blink her eyes before Ravenna was upon her with a sudden and heavy headbutt.
Crack.
The headbutt landed cleanly. Doris's skull reeled from the impact, her nerves igniting as though needles were being driven into her mind. Her body crumpled. She dropped to her knees, clutching her head, screaming as blood streamed from her nose.
Then silence.
Her limbs went limp, and she collapsed in a heap—unconscious.
Ravenna landed hard but steady, hiding the pain rippling through her frame. Her head hurt. Her muscles ached, her bones groaned from the strain of two brutal confrontations in quick succession—first with her master, now with Doris. She was worn. Fractured. But she didn't show it.
She opened mouth and her voice came sharp and controlled, without leaking a trace of fatigue.
"Lizba. Tori. Take her away. The rest of you—leave. I don't want to see anyone else staying behind."
Her tone left no room for protest.
Lizba and Tori, once the youngest before Dahlia's arrival, trembled where they stood. If not for Doris and the others descending to confront Ravenna, they would never have dared step forward on their own. Now, faced with Ravenna's command, they exchanged a fearful glance—one that said clearly: we have no choice.
They had just begun moving toward Doris's unconscious form when Leela's voice, sharp with fury, pierced the heavy silence.
"Do you know what you're doing?" she barked, her jaw clenched tight, her glare snapping toward the two girls.
Lizba and Tori flinched, startled and rooted to the spot.
Brute further tightened her clutch on her club as she twirled it around her hand.
Ravenna turned her head, eyes narrowing. She could already sense the resistance bubbling beneath the surface, and she knew—if she didn't crush it now, it would fester.
With the last ounce of energy she could summon, Ravenna vanished from where she stood, her body blurring into motion, reappearing directly in front of Leela.
Leela didn't have time to react. Not a blink, not a breath.
Ravenna's hand shot out, seizing Leela by the throat and lifting her clean off the ground. Her grip was firm—unyielding. At that moment, something shifted in the air. A pressure spread outward like a coiled beast awakening, mixing together with the eeriness of the dark space. For the first time, Brute, who had been bracing her club in readiness, felt a prickle of true killing intention from Ravenna. Even the silver-haired woman instinctively stepped back.
Their eyes gleamed with fear as they stared at Ravenna. Faint, dark lines etched themselves across her body for a brief moment—then vanished as quickly as they had appeared.
But Leela—Leela bore the brunt of it all.
She felt it immediately: Ravenna's intent to kill. Real. Cold. Her lungs fought for air, sweat broke across her brow, and fear gripped her heart like ice.
She can kill me!
She can really kill me!
Her heart sang desperately and fearfully.
"Do you want to die?" Ravenna said softly, her voice carrying a chill that cut deeper than any shout. Her eyes glinted—not with fury, but something colder. Something unreadable. Even Ravenna herself was stunned by what she felt surging inside her. This strength, this raw edge—she had never wielded it like this before.
"Plea…se! We… we'll leave!" Leela gasped, her voice cracking beneath the pressure.
Ravenna didn't care for her plea. With a single motion, she swung Leela aside like a discarded rag doll. Leela hit the ground hard, groaning as she scrambled up in panic, disappearing down the dark passage without looking back.
Lizba and Tori didn't hesitate. They rushed to Doris's side, lifting her between them as best as they could, and fled.
The silver-haired woman paused, casting one final, thoughtful glance at Ravenna before turning and following in their footsteps.
Only Brute lingered, teeth clenched, hand still wrapped tightly around her club. Defiant. Unmoved.
Until Ravenna's gaze found her.
Sharp. Piercing.
Brute's heart stuttered. She swallowed hard, her grip faltering. With a reluctant snarl, she turned her back and disappeared like the rest.
And at last…there was silence.
Ravenna stood still for a moment longer before her legs gave out. She dropped to the ground, her body folding in on itself. The full weight of exhaustion hit her like a tidal wave. Her chest rose and fell in uneven, jagged gasps, each breath sharp as though her ribs might crack. Her heart thundered in her chest, threatening to tear free. It was a pain that made her feel like she'd been toiling at hard labor for a century without rest.
She thought facing Hecuba had drained her. But Doris… Doris had nearly broken her.
As she sat there in the stillness, she remembered.
Dahlia.
Her eyes widened in alarm. She turned quickly—and saw her curled away behind a mound of debris, eyes still looking blankly into the hollow and the silent tears that continued in her eyes.
Ravenna sighed in relief and she still wondered why Dahlia was still like that.
Guilt clawed at Ravenna's chest. She struggled upright, her bones aching in protest. She couldn't afford to linger. She had made enemies of the others—true, bitter enemies. She had to find a way out. For both Dahlia and herself.
She remembered the torch she had dropped earlier, right before the confrontation. She retrieved it from the ground, her fingers trembling as she tried to light it once more. It took several tries. When it finally caught, a faint glow pierced the surrounding gloom.
But with the light came pain—sharp and stabbing. Her eyes recoiled, the same way they had when she set fire to Hecuba's body. Then, she'd been too anxious to notice. Now, the sting was undeniable. She shielded her vision until her sight gradually adjusted.
The barrier.
She had nearly forgotten she had been inspecting it before the others arrived. Holding the torch ahead, she searched for its edge. At first, there was nothing—just more of the hollow, stretching into darkness.
But then a gust of air nudged the flame, and its tip brushed against the unseen barrier.
The effect was immediate.
Tiny radiant sparks shimmered where the flame made contact. The invisible became visible, glowing lines started tracing the outline of the barrier like constellations being drawn in real time.
Ravenna startled, stepping back instinctively as the shining hue expanded. The once-invisible wall spread across the hollow's width—and now, for the first time, she saw its height.
She had thought the overcast ceiling above her was close. It wasn't.
The barrier climbed impossibly high, reaching into the unseen dark above, further than she had imagined.
Cold breath slipped between Ravenna's lips. She reached out, fingers grazing the barrier's smooth, crystalline surface. She blinked. Crystal?
The memory struck her like a whisper from her past. She had known crystals before—before her memories were stolen as a child. And now she remembered it.
But something wasn't right.
Aren't crystals supposed to have a hard surface?
The surface felt unyielding, yes—but she had seen what happened when something struck it with force. The rebound was like hitting an elastic surface. This wasn't made from ordinary crystal. It was something more…. If it had been bent, it could've served as a propeller for them upwards to the overcast.
She stared at the gleaming wall, her thoughts solidifying her theories that this could really be the way out.