Chapter 40:

Turning the Tide

(Sasha's POV, Cont.)

"If this is some joke..." the threatening tone of Queen-Consort Cordelia hung over Sasha's head, "I'll make you watch as I flay your family alive."

"I understand..." Sasha replied, doing her best to hide the panic rising inside of her.

The light was still in the sky as the Queen-Consort rushed, hastily having dressed and put on some fanciful chainmail. They weren't alone either. The First Prince Noah and his mother, Queen-Consort Yasmina had also joined them. A heavy pressure exuded from Prince Noah.

"I'll personally gut you," Noah seethed, his hand clenched over the sword he held unsheathed, "Are you sure your eyes weren't playing tricks on you? I was personally there. I saw the ruins of the chateau."

"I assure you, Your Highness," Sasha affirmed, "It's her. I will stake my life on that."

"Damn right you will," Noah growled, his mother, Queen-Consort Yasmina, wrapping a comforting arm around him as they walked.

By now, most of the camp had been alerted to what was happening. Converging on the gates were not only the Queen-Consort's and Prince Noah, but also several of the commanders from the other noble families.

"It's the middle of the night," one of them said gruffly.

They were an older gentleman with greying hair and strong features. Despite their age, they were well-built and definitely not a pushover. Sasha had heard about him before. His name was Sir Graham, and it was said that he could crush a mans skull with one hand. From the size of him, Sasha could believe it. On his back he wore a giant club, his preferred weapon.

"This better be good..." another, middle-aged woman commented off-handedly, "I mean no disrespect, but why should we believe that the person they have is Princess Madeline?"

The woman was Dame Gertrude. She had striking green eyes and suntanned skin. Her dark hair was graying and from what Sasha knew about them, they were quite deadly with a blade. Their preferred weapon was a rapier, which hung from her side with an intricately designed hilt.

She walked with a certain swagger and held an incredibly confident expression. A constant smile upon her lips as if remembering a joke no one knew. Prince Noah glanced at her, but otherwise said nothing. Dame Gertrude was from one of the higher-ranking noble families. If Sasha recalled, it was the Fairbanks. They were in charge of large swathes of land to the South, and they were one of the families which had been on the edge when it came to this conflict.

They had only been won over because of the death of Princess Madeline. The secrets which been spilled by Queen-Consort Cordelia had spurned Duchess Fairbanks, the one whom Dame Gertrude served. Everyone seemed to be wary of Dame Gertrude, Sasha included. There was something...off about her.

"My patience is waning!" Princess Gwenevere's voice echoed across the battlements as they grew closer, "If they are not here, do not waste my time!"

"...That bitch," Prince Noah seethed, "She's really taunting us..."

He picked up his pace, cresting the final staircase and emerging on top of the battlements. Sasha was not far behind, nor were the Queen-Consorts and the two commanders which had followed them. The top of the battlements were filled with people by now, most of which were archers, a couple mages, and a few of the other commanders.

Pushing their way forward, they made their way to the front, and Sasha once again saw Princess Gwenevere holding her sister, Princess Madeline, firmly by the ropes which bound her. The moment that the Queen-Consort's arrived, Princess Gwenevere's head turned towards them, and from what Sasha could see from this distance...she smiled.

"Ah, there you are!" she greeted, holding Princess Madeline up for them to see, "I was afraid that Maddie here might have to go for a swim!"

Sasha looked towards Queen-Consort Cordelia to see that she held her hands over her mouth in shock as tears began to fill her eyes. Prince Noah was almost equally shocked, if not more so. He took several hesitant steps forward before resting his hands on the edge of the battlements.

"Release her now you vile bitch!" Prince Noah roared, having several people needed to hold him back, including his mother, as he began to step up onto the battlements as if he was going to jump, "Return Madeline now!"

Princess Madeline struggled in Princess Gwenevere's grip. Tension was high.

"Ah...Noah, I'm afraid not," Princess Gwenevere replied calmly, though her voice still carried.

Sasha reasoned by now that she was using some kind of mana manipulation with her vocal cords. Aura Users, like Mages, were terrifying. Sasha could barely manifest a little bit of it.

Queen-Consort Cordelia looked around before pulling a young, robed figure. She ordered them to amplify her vocal cords, of which they did with a nervous hand before being pushed away. Sasha could only take a deep breath, shaking her head. Sometimes, she regretted serving the Lockwood Family, but her loyalty was set.

"Gwenevere..." Queen-Consort Cordelia spoke across the water, her words choking back the tears, "This is low, even for you. First, you make it look as if she's dead...then you flaunt her before me!"

"Dead?" Princess Gwenevere looked at Princess Madeline, then appeared to shrug, "I would have killed her for touching Vincent, but...I'm not that unreasonable."

There was a deafening silence as everyone knew that she was very capable of killing Princess Madeline, but she was right. Why would she have killed her? There was something she wanted. That's why she had spared Princess Madeline.

"We should take this chance and shoot her," one of the commanders chimed in, "Take her out, then we can-"

The commander was gruffly grabbed by the armor by Queen-Consort Cordelia, who showed surprising strength.

"My daughter is down there," she growled, eyes like daggers, "If you so much as think of shooting towards her...I'll withdraw all my support."

"As will I," Queen-Consort Yasmina agreed, still trying to hold back her son, "Princess Madeline is important to my son. If anything happens due to a misfire..."

Her eyes flashed with slight power. Sasha had heard she had some magical abilities, but nothing of real note. However, neither of them were complete pushovers, and most of the people on this particular battlement were part of the Lockwood and Elsworth forces.

The commander held up their hands in defeat, though their eyes burned with silent anger. They were released as Queen-Consort Cordelia returned her attention to Princess Gwenevere.

"...What do you want?" she asked Princess Gwenevere, barely holding back her anger.

"It's simple, Cordelia," she chuckled, a chuckle that rang out hauntingly across the night, "If you want your daughter returned to you safely...all you have to do is fight."

There was a murmur across the battlements, most of which was done in confusion. What did she mean, fight? Was that not why all of them were there? They would clash eventually, but...no, that's when it clicked with Sasha. There was a sudden tension in the air around them.

The Noble Faction had been tenuously holding onto the alliances that they had. All the noble families which had gathered here had rallied behind them because of one thing...they had reported that Princess Gwenevere had killed Princess Madeline. They had used such fuel to rally support behind them.

"I take the silence to mean you understand," Princess Gwenevere's words were insidious, "Maddie is safe and sound, so long as you capture or kill the bastards who have caused all of this. The Noble Faction."

"You want us to betray our allies!?" Queen-Consort Cordelia exclaimed, her jaw clenched.

"If you wish for her safe return...yes," she responded smugly, "You know me well enough that I keep my word. Nothing will stand in my way. You have a choice. Make it."

Suddenly, Princess Gwenevere held Princess Madeline over the running water, still tied up. Her mother leaned against the battlements in desperation, glaring out at Princess Gwenevere. That sixth sense of Sasha began to tingle. Her hand began to hover over the hand crossbow at her side.

"Heh, that's devious," Dame Gertrude mused, seemingly finding this funny, "She never fails to surprise me."

Prince Noah tensed, the flash of a sword followed by the clang of metal against metal. His blade was locked with the rapier of Dame Gertrude who, despite the sudden attack, looked completely undisturbed.

"Temper, temper, Princeling," Dame Gertrude chided.

"Do you think this is funny," he asked through clenched teeth, "Madeline could die and you're laughing."

"I believe Her Majesty gave you a choice," Dame Gertrude stated, then held her free hand up to her mouth in mock surprise, "Oops, seems I said something I shouldn't have."

Immediately, five individuals among the crowd drew their weapons and surrounded Dame Gertrude in a protective formation. Sasha immediately drew the hand crossbow, but was unsure where to aim it as she took up a defensive stance near Queen-Consort Cordelia. Her free hand hovered over the short sword at her waist.

"...I should have known," Queen-Consort Yasmina spoke up from behind her son, Prince Noah, "She's already won you over, hasn't she?"

"Our people are starving," Dame Gertrude said simply, "Our call for aid was denied...Her Majesty provided. Unlike you lot who care only for yourselves, she cares about this Empire and the everyone within."

Queen-Consort Yasmina scoffed, making a move to step forward, only to be stopped by a hand on the shoulder by Queen-Consort Cordelia.

"Yasmina..." she said softly, and the two of them met eyes, "That's my daughter down there. Imagine if it was your son. What would you do?"

They shared a look for a moment before being acknowledged.

"Understood, Cordelia," Queen-Consort Yasmina nodded, "Give the order."

"This is ridiculous!" the commander from before raged, "The Norfolk Family won't stand for this! Everyone! Atta-agh!"

Their words were cut off as a giant bludgeon came down upon their skull. Blood splattered everywhere. Sir Graham stood above them with his giant club, hefting it upon his shoulder. Queen-Consort Cordelia took several steps towards the corpse of the man Sir Graham had killed, looking down upon them coldly.

"Then, the Norfolk Family will fall," she stated, then turned her attention towards Princess Gwenevere who still waited for them, the light beginning to fade, "Promise me...you'll return my daughter to me."

"I keep my word," she repeated, Princess Madeline still hung over the water.

Clenching her fists, Queen-Consort Cordelia took a deep breath, determination in her eyes.

"All Lockwood and Elsworth Forces!" her voice rose over the camp, echoing as the soldiers and knights stirred, "Those still allied with us...kill every single Noble Faction supporter. This is an order from Cordelia Stone with the authority of Yasmina Stone."

Sasha's heart began to pump as chaos erupted. Dame Gertrude and Prince Noah released their blades from each other, with Prince Noah rushing to the battlements, screaming across the river.

"You better keep your word!" he roared before turning to rush into the sudden battle which had emerged around them.

Those supporting the Noble Faction upon the battlements were quickly dispersed, with Sasha ending a few of their lives herself. A crossbow bolt between the eyes. A blade through the heart. She flowed and moved with years of experience, heart racing from excitement.

She might just survive this fight...something she had not hoped for when they were facing the Army of the Phoenix. With one last glance out at the water, before the light faded, Sasha saw Princess Gwenevere set Princess Madeline down on the raft. Completely safe.

"Smart choice..." Princess Gwenevere's voice echoed as the last of the light in the sky faded.

The moment the light went out, a sudden frosty chill filled the air, and from the river, Sasha saw something which absolutely terrified her. There was a sudden burst of icy-blue which flared up for a brief moment, and immediately after, Sasha saw the river come to a grinding halt as it was completely frozen over. In the distance, through the dark, she heard it.

The thundering sound of thousands of feet rushing across the Northshall, each one becoming illuminated by a tiny lantern hung to their waist.

-----

(Gwen's POV)

"I knew you'd come in handy, Maddie," she praised, handing her off to the guard, "We'll keep you safe and sound until this battle is over. Then, we'll decide your fate."

"...You bitch," Madeline spouted as Gwen took the gag from her mouth, "You planned this from the start, didn't you?"

Hundreds of men and women rushed past them as they spoke, the sounds of fighting could already be heard across the river.

"Mind your words, sister," Gwen warned, a dangerous glint in her eye, "Though, you are right. You've always been a valuable pawn. Whether here or at Sol'Valen, the outcome was the same."

"Damn it..." Madeline shook her head and hung it in defeat.

Gwen cupped Madeline's chin, lifting her to look at her in the passing lantern lights.

"You should have never touched him," Gwen said coldly, "That is just one of your many crimes. You, and all of the Noble Faction, are rotten to the core. You take and think only of yourselves, so ask yourself this...what will you give."

Gwen roughly let go of her, motioning for her to be taken away. As Madeline was dragged from the area, Vincent came walking up, immediately soothing Gwen's heart.

"You really did it," Gwen praised, looking around at the raft completely frozen in the river, "Not only did your plan work with the river, but using Madeline now was a good choice."

He rubbed the back of his neck bashfully, giving a slight shrug.

"It was your plan." he told her, "It just came in use a little early."

"Indeed," Gwen took a moment to admire him, "Are you okay? The river didn't take too much, did it?"

"With the others for help, I'm good," he assured her, and for a brief time, the two of them were lost in the moment.

This was only broken when someone, Gwen's mother, cleared their throat.

"I don't think this is the time to be swooning, you two," she chimed in, embarrassing them both, "I believe we have a battle to fight?"

She was flanked by several Elven Guards in elegant golden plate mail.

"We're not swooning," Gwen defended, though the warmth in her face betrayed her, "I was only making sure to see if he was okay. Freezing the entire river like this has to take a lot..."

"I-I'm fine," Vincent said once more, "I was just reporting back...that's all."

"How adorable," her mother rolled her eyes with a slight smile, "Well, whatever the case...there's a fight to win. Do I have to do it all for you?"

"No, Mother," Gwen sighed, shaking her head with a smile as she drew her blade.

It flared to life with a refined, beautiful crimson aura. Her blade thrummed with power.

"Vincent..." Gwen looked to him with a bit of longing, "I suppose it's here that we part..."

"We'll unite soon," he replied with a soft smile, "We agreed, Gwen. It'll be faster if we split our attention. I'll be safe. I promise."

"You better, or I'll drag you back," she teased with a smirk, "I don't like giving orders to you, Vincent, but come back to me safely."

"Of course, Gwen," he saluted for a moment, and the two of them shared a look for what seemed like forever before he finally pulled away and began rushing into the fray.

Gwen's mother stepped up beside her, giving her a little nudge.

"If you two don't tie the knot after this..." she whispered, glancing up at her mischievously.

"...Shut up, we're not even dating yet," Gwen replied, unable to meet her eye from being too embarrassed.

"Yet?" she inquired coyishly, deepening Gwen's embarrassment.

"Come on, we have a war to fight," Gwen changed the subject, "Try to keep up."

With that, Gwen rushed off, doing her best to hide the embarrassment as she moved dexterously across the ice. She could practically feel her mother shake her head, hands on her hips and heard her even from here.

"Honestly...that girl," she sighed, sounding quite pleased, "You underestimate your mother."

There was a burst of wind as suddenly, Lucine was beside her daughter, shrouded in an aura of twilight with a smirk upon her lips.

"I never underestimated you," Gwen told her once she caught up, now finally composed, "Show me what you gave up for that bastard."

"With pleasure, Little Flame," she replied, eyes aglow with starlight.

They were close to the frontlines now, a clash between their forces and the Noble Faction on the banks of the river. They were desperately trying to hold Gwen's army back while fending their rear from the enemies within. With a flourish of her hand, Gwen's mother cast several mana circles which glowed a dark blue.

These circles swept through the middle of the enemy. Violet sparks ignited as the circles erupted into a nebulous explosion. This decimated their ranks and allowed their allies to tear through and break open a path through which Gwen and her mother made their way through.

It felt refreshing to Gwen, fighting by her mother's side. It was a moment that she would enjoy, even if her mind was preoccupied with Vincent's progress.

-----

(Vincent's POV)

He breathed in, the cold air filling his lungs. As he breathed out, his fingers tingled with the energy of frost. A blade came for his head, but he was quicker than the wielder. Bending himself backwards, he dodged under hit, his hand brushing the swordsman's side.

Ice exploded upon contact, flash-freezing the soldier in an instant. Coming up from his dodge, Vincent leapt over the swing of another sword, twisting in the air as he kicked the attacker in the head. Once more, a blast of ice exploded from contact, freezing them instantly.

Vincent landed upon the frozen soldier's shoulder, one foot propped upon the top of their head. His cool gaze scanned the field of battle, and surrounding him were a plethora of frozen bodies. He shook his right arm out, feeling the tingling sensation of heightening his reflexes with mana. It was how he compensated for his lack of physical ability.

There were many who underestimated Mages, believing they weren't capable of fighting in close quarters, but Vincent broke that stereotype. It was the only way he could survive. He had to learn to utilize magic in such a way that whether he was at a distance or face to face, he would survive. Taking a deep breath, he calmed his mind.

Despite all the progress he has made, his mind still fought him whenever he was in battle. It was a struggle to keep himself from losing his conscious train of thought. To not enter survival mode. It was only thanks to the reminder of what happens when he loses control that he was able to keep his cool. He'd never allow himself to harm someone important to him again, even if it had been just a little scratch.

"Forward," Vincent ordered the battalion he was in command of, motioning towards the right set of buildings, "Sweep the area. Capture any who surrender, kill all who resist, unless you see her. If Vanessa is here...I'll handle it."

"Yes, Sir!" they saluted, marching forward and doing as they were told.

Vincent's gaze turned towards the fluttering banner of the Saville Family nearby. There was a reason that Vincent had taken this side of the field. He had come to personally confront his past while Gwen secured the overall victory. This was his fight, and if she was here...it was his duty to put an end to her madness.

"For your sake...I hope you stayed home," Vincent muttered, feeling quite hollow from the task ahead of him.

There was a time when Vincent would have been delighted to end Vanessa's life for everything that she put him through, but the more he learned about the Noble Faction, the more he realized how much both of them were victims of their greed. Now, all he felt was pity, but it was a hollow pity, for even though she was a victim, he could not forget everything she had done.

As he contemplated these thoughts, he was interrupted when he felt a disturbance in the air. There was a brief moment, like right before a lightning strike, where everything felt...calm. Then, a sudden static charge, followed by the blinding flash of electricity and a deafening clap of thunder. Vincent jumped from the frozen corpse just as it shattered into a million pieces.

He narrowly dodged the lightning bolt, and as sound came back to his ears, he heard the screams of many soldier's, followed by them running and retreating backwards. They were his soldiers.

"S-Sir! There's a problem!" one of them rushed up to him, out of breath, their hair matted with blood, but it didn't look to be their own.

"I can see that," Vincent stated, looking in the direction of where the blast had come from, "How many were hit."

"Just two of us," they stated, catching their breath, "The rest of us were able to get out of the way in time, but-"

Vincent held up a hand to silence him, for his attention was suddenly drawn towards something which gripped at his heart. There, amidst the rising smoke and glistening stone from where the lightning had half-melted it, he saw her. However...something was wrong.

Her dark violet hair flowed by itself with sparks jumping between them. Her once fair porcelain skin pulsed with glowing veins of violet-blue energy, which made it looked cracked. Everything about her seemed dangerously charged as she raised her hand towards them. It was a hand made of that same, violet-blue energy.

"Take your men and get out of here," Vincent ordered, pushing the man aside.

They began to open their mouth, but Vincent didn't have time to argue. Channeling his mana, he forced the guard away with a strong gust of wind. His fingers danced in the air to create several circles that erupted into a prismatic barrier upon which the next blast of violet-blue lightning crashed against. The force behind it was incredible, more than should be possible for her.

"...What's happened to you, Vanessa?" Vincent muttered, turning his attention to the guard, "Go! You'll only be in the way!"

They finally seemed to understand as they scrambled to their feet and began to gather the scattered soldiers. He covered their escape as blast after blast of electricity ricocheted off of his shields. This was not normal. Vanessa wasn't this strong in Magic.

"Viiiincent~," her words echoed through the ruins of the town, "You have no idea how much I've missed you."

A wicked, obsessive smile crossed her lips. Her eyes, silver with hues of pink, flashed to life with power as another blast slammed against his barrier. She was manic. Completely focused and corrupted by whatever had happened to her.

"I got a few upgrades since last we met," she cooed, laughing maniacally, "I couldn't wait to show you. See, aren't I better than that bitch. Look at me, Vincent! Look at me!"

Two blasts in quick succession dug into Vincent barrier. From the force, he was pushed back, his feet digging into the ground. "...Upgrades, huh?" Vincent could now feel the unstable energy coursing through her. This wasn't an upgrade...this was insanity.

"Vanessa, what the hell did you do?" Vincent asked over the sound of the distant fighting and constant claps of thunder from her spells.

"...Vanessa?" she tilted her head, looking a little confused, "You...don't use my title?"

"Should I?" he asked, smirking a bit, "I don't even use Gwen's title unless I have to."

Her eyes flared to life in anger.

"Don't you dare use another woman's name in front of me!" she became incensed, casting spell after spell, "After everything I did for you...after the life I gave you...you choose her over me!"

He felt the pain in her words. The feelings of betrayal. It wasn't like he didn't understand, but...

"I was never yours, Vanessa," Vincent told her, his fingers nimbly tracing the air over his barrier to reinforce it, "The Noble Faction took me. They tortured me and so did you."

"I gave you nothing but love," she screamed, her arms crackling with a dangerous amount of mana before releasing it towards him, "You were mine. Given to me rightfully. All you had to do was love me back!"

"...I was a slave, Vanessa," his words trembled, not from anger or sadness, but from the pain he felt from years of abuse, "Just as you were, even if you didn't wear the mark. You were a slave to their whims. Any love born of that would not be true."

These words seemed to have triggered something in her, but he wasn't sure if it was anger or denial as she screamed louder than before. The air became charged with more magic than her body should be able to handle.

"Lies! Lies! I'm no slave!" she began to scream, the power coursing through her tearing up the ground around her, "Just come back to me! Everything will be fine if-"

"No, Vanessa," Vincent interrupted firmly, his heart becoming conflicted, "I'm not going back. I'll never be a slave again."

"You won't. I promise, I just-" she was getting desperate, and the situation was getting even more dangerous.

Vincent had been well aware of the insane amount of mana building up in her body. It was tearing her apart and the more emotional she got, the stronger it became. This was a death sentence. Whoever did this to her knew she wouldn't survive. If she did this to herself...she must be really desperate.

"I'm not going back," Vincent repeated, once more interrupting her, "None of it would be real. Think, Vanessa. You're smarter than this."

For a moment, his words reached her. Her arms fell limply to her side, her face slack in utter mortified sorrow. She looked upon him with such an intense longing that, for a brief moment, Vincent could feel a twinge within his own heart. In that moment, she was nothing but a child.

He could see her from a young age being told the lies of the Noble Faction. The poison they whispered in her ear. She grew up being manipulated not only by them, but her own family. She had only ever been a pawn.

"You're right..." her words echoed, reverberating with the unnatural power she possessed, "It wouldn't be, but...that's better than nothing, right?"

She slowly raised a hand, a luminescent tear rolling down her face as another blast of lightning shot out towards him.

"No, Vanessa, it's not," Vincent's barrier dispersed the blast harmlessly, "I implore you...what drove you to this madness? What happened to the woman who loved to paint? The one with aspirations for her artwork to be seen the world over?"

Her eye twitched and her hand hesitated.

"You know...so much about me," she whispered, yet her voice carried with a pained smile upon her lips, "More than even my own parents...I never wanted to harm you, you know."

"...I know," Vincent nodded, his memories clearer than before, "You only did so once, when you were angry. You felt horrible afterwards. You didn't eat for a weak."

"...Father punished you," her words became choked as more iridescent tears gathered in her eyes, "It wasn't your fault. You tried to feed me..."

"I failed, I deserved to be punished," Vincent stated, which caused Vanessa's eyes to go wide with horror.

"No! You did your best!" she lamented, "All those times...I know I indulged myself, but my parents...they would watch to make sure I punished you properly. If I didn't...they would. I was protecting you."

"...I know you believe that," Vincent nodded, taking a deep breath, "I believed it too. I know now that I didn't deserve any of that."

"No...you didn't, did you?" her arm fell back down to her side, "I just...wanted to be loved. You...were the only good thing in my life."

"You don't break what you love," Vincent said, finally dropping the barrier as he stood straight, for he felt no more danger from her...only the danger to herself, "Vanessa, tell me...did you do this to yourself?"

She looked down at her fracturing body. The energy welling up inside of her looked to be painful, and this was proven when she suddenly doubled over as the mana spiked. She screamed in pain, hugging herself tightly.

"Y-Yeah, I mean...sort of?" Vanessa chuckled dryly, "I just wanted you back. It was experimental, but they said...it would give me power. Power enough to take you back. I guess...I couldn't handle it."

"...Who said this?" Vincent inquired softly, almost afraid of the answer.

Vanessa looked up at him with a pitiful, pained expression.

"My...father," she swallowed hard, gritting her teeth as another convulsion overtook her, "Heh...isn't that something? Sending his own daughter to die..."

"Yeah...I know the feeling," Vincent began to take steps towards her, only for her to hold up her hand to stop him.

"No! St-Stay back!" she pleaded, desperation in her eyes, "I can feel it...I don't have much time. This is fitting. I caused you so much pain...I should die like this. I should-"

Vincent didn't heed her warning, taking each step deliberately. With his memories clearer than ever before, his mind had never been more set than in this moment. He recalled how it always pained her to punish him. He also recalled how selfish she was. She wasn't a good person by any means, but she wasn't the villain that he had thought she was either.

She was just a simple tool. A pawn used by her parents and the Noble Faction. They were all just nothing but pieces on a chessboard to be moved as they pleased with no regard to the consequences. Whoever she was during his time with her, that's not who she was now.

"I'm not going anywhere," Vincent raised a hand towards the erratic energy around her, "Consider this my last service to you, and the first of my own free will...I won't make you suffer."

By now the energy was completely out of control. The area around them was cracking and debris began to float from the power encompassing the area. Yet, Vincent was not deterred. The moment his hand touched the energy, he felt the shock of it enter his system.

It was no worse than what he had gone through his entire life. In fact, it felt more like a tickle comparatively. He was an expert at manipulating mana and harnessing it to his will. This was no different.

He channeled the excess energy, gathering it all into himself with each step he made towards her. The air felt heavy. He couldn't imagine the pain she was in. He made a vow, and he would keep it. This was not how she should die.

No matter what anyone said, or what anyone thought, he did not hate Vanessa. He hated the institution which created her. The society in which they were all born. The vile corruption of the Noble Faction.

"V-Vincent...please, get away." Vanessa was now fully doubled over, unable to stand anymore, "I'm not worth it."

"You don't get to decide that for me anymore," he responded calmly, finally pushing through to her, "I get to decide what I do."

Pushing through the increasingly unstable mana, Vincent knelt down before her, placing a hand upon her shoulder.

"The pain you caused me, I'll never forget," he stated, yet not an ounce of hate was in his words, if anything, there was sympathy, "I'll also never forget the tenderness in which you treated me when there were no eyes upon you. I was a simple product, and you were the consumer."

She looked up at him with regret, yet beneath it was a strong affection. A devotion that never wavered. There was recognition within her eyes. The realization that everything she had felt had been twisted beyond repair.

"Don't...you dare forgive me," she forced a sneering smirk, "I treated you like shit, and you know it."

"Don't tell me what to do," he shot back with a smirk of his own, "I've already forgiven you, but I will never forget."

She clenched her teeth again, muffling a scream as the energy fluctuated once again.

"Gods...it hurts...it hurts so much," she chuckled, blood tinged with an iridescent hue trickled from her mouth, "Vincent...I'm so fucking sorry."

Vincent took this opportunity to siphon the overflowing mana, building all of it inside of himself as it reached critical mass.

"I know," he said coolly, "Now, shut up for a moment...I told you. I won't make you suffer."

In that moment, he moved his hand from her shoulder to the middle of her forehead. His mana flowed out from him in an icy mist. He covered her entire body with cool air in order to ease the pain of her body breaking down. At the same time, right as the influx of mana was about to explode, he aimed his free hand into the air and became the funnel for it.

He gritted his teeth, the taste of iron filling his mouth. The familiar crackling of electricity ran through his body, threatening to tear him apart, but unlike Vanessa, his body could handle it. What parts of him began to break, healed almost immediately...at least, most of him.

His right arm surged as the energy tore through it, a terrifying amount of mana blew into the sky, illuminating the area in its violet-blue hue, and for a moment, there appeared a hole within the clouds above, revealing the moon and basking the area in its light.

As everything began to settle, Vincent moved quickly to catch Vanessa's limp body and prevented it from hitting the ground.

"Heh...you did it," she spoke weakly, "You're right...the pain is gone, but...now I feel cold. Reminds me of you..."

"Is that a compliment?" he joked dryly.

"Of course," she responded as if it was fact, "I always liked that cool side of you, but right now...I'd love to be warm."

"..." Vincent silently removed the outer layer of the robe he wore, laying it over her.

He pulled her to him, channeling a little bit of fire energy into his robe to warm it. A soft, gentle smile appeared upon her lips.

"You spoil me," she whispered, "Why?"

"I don't have to explain myself to you," he told her, which received a chuckle from her.

"I guess not," she looked around at the destruction she caused, "I made an entire mess of things, didn't I? Are you okay?"

Her genuine concern for him caught him off-guard. He awkwardly hid his arm from her view. She didn't need to see how destroyed it was at the moment.

"I'm fine, and...yes, you did," Vincent answered in that monotone way of his, lying only slightly, "You always knew how to throw tantrums."

"Ha!" she laughed, only to suddenly cough, "Damn...I really did, huh? I'm such a fool. I should have taken the hint when Her Highness took my hand."

Vincent watched as her body began to fail her. Bits of her feet began to flake away as if they were nothing but ash. Her face was cracked, the skin beginning to peel off like pieces of parchment, and her eyes...well, he watched with a conflicted heart as their sparkling silver with hues of pink began to glaze over. They looked around desperately, trying to see.

"Vincent...are you still there?" she asked, her vision now gone, "I'm warm now, but...it's dark."

"I'm still here, yes," he spoke quietly, "I'm not going anywhere."

""I'm really...dying," she said knowingly, "You'll kill them, right? The ones who made us this way?"

"Of course," he replied with absolute confidence, "You know who that includes, don't you?"

"Mhm..." she was getting tired now, weaker as more of her began to fade away, "My parents...I loved them, you know. I still do. Will you make their death...just as painless?"

"...No," he answered honestly, "Though, I will make it quick."

"I see..." she blinked, turning to look away, "It's a shame, I can't see your face before I go. Do you think...can I feel your face? One last time. Please?"

Vincent hesitated for a moment, not because he was repulsed by the idea, but because...the person speaking to him now was not the Vanessa that he knew. This Vanessa was who she should have been if the Noble Faction had never gotten their claws into her. For that reason, and that reason alone, he accepted.

"You always were demanding...Lady Vanessa," Vincent teased, which earned another, albeit weak, laugh from her before he carefully took her good hand in his and placed it upon his cheek, "Does it feel different?"

"...No," she felt around gently, carefully feeling every corner of his face, "It's...perfect."

More and more of her began to fade. It wouldn't be long now.

"Since I'm so demanding..." she continued with a wry smile, "Might I indulge you...in one more thing?"

"Maybe," his words were tinged with a little mischief, "What, pray tell, would you have of me?"

"Heh, I would have of you nothing," she replied softly, her voice getting weaker, "Only, a request. My paintings...did you...like them?"

For the first time, Vincent's heart felt a stabbing pain. He became more alert to her words now.

"They were...beautiful," he spoke no lies, for he truly believed they were.

"Good. I mean...the subject helped," she let out a small chuckle, "I don't have anything else. Please...don't let...them..."

She was breathing heavily now. Her hands were trembling. Vincent did his best to steady them, holding them in his. He didn't feel anything before now, but suddenly there was a desperation in his heart. A desperation for her to hold out just a little longer.

"My dream..." she struggled to speak, but a smile began to form upon her lips, "Was for the whole world...to see their beauty. Your beauty. Gods...you were so kind, and I...I just..."

Her words began to fail as the robe he placed over her began to fall to the ground. Her body was deteriorating fast. Perhaps she only held on because of the cold he had used to hold her together, but now...it was fading.

"Thank you...Vincent," she forced the words out, "And I'm...so fucking sorry. Live...please...live."

That was it. The last of her words as the most beautiful smile he had ever seen from her was forever frozen upon her lips. His jaw clenched, unsure how he should feel. When he started this, he didn't feel anything, and in a way...he still didn't.

However, as her skin flaked away and became nothing but ash...dust upon the wind, and her hand in his collapsed into nothing, leaving him to only feel his own face...a melancholy descended upon him. For a moment, he simply stayed there, processing everything that had happened. She didn't even get to hear his reply.

Slowly, he stood, taking his robe with him. He held it in his one good arm, staring at it for a while before finally speaking.

"You were always demanding, but..." he flung the robe open, putting it on as best he could in one, smooth motion, "I'll see that your dream becomes reality. I guess this will be my actual last act of service, and the second of my own free will. Rest in peace...Lady Vanessa."

Slowly, a small, gentle and tender smile appeared upon his lips. He was at peace with the way things ended, even if they were not ideal. In another life, in another place, perhaps he would have gotten along better with her. Perhaps, they would have been able to enjoy her paintings free of the deluge that was this rotten world.

"Now then...she said her father gave her that?" Vincent's gaze turned towards the nearby banner of the Saville Family, "Let's clean this up. You always acted the doting father, but now you've shown your true colors. You always told me never to leave a single stain. Trust me...I won't."

Vincent began his march towards the banner, his ruined arm beginning to form back and fill the vacant sleeve of his robe. He stretched it a few times, opening and closing his hand. With the way now clear, the soldiers and Mages who had followed Vincent now care out of hiding. They had obeyed his orders, but now...they were ready for new ones.

"What's the plan, Sir?" the one he had saved from before asked.

"Kill everyone," Vincent ordered, his face stoic and eyes set ablaze in a cool, deadly gaze, "The Saville Family falls tonight."

They saluted and began moving off. Vincent wasn't far behind them, but he wasn't rushing. He was making his way purposefully, inevitably forward.

"They won't escape, Vanessa," he thought to himself, partially to her, "I'll send them to you for you to judge...I'm only the messenger."

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