Seline extended her two hands towards the clown, opening them wide. Her fingers, delicate and slender, projected with an elegance that suggested she was ready to capture something invisible in the air. "You've learned some new tricks," the clown began with a sly smile, "but have you improved your spatial proficiency?" His voice, tinged with a subtle challenge, resonated with confidence. Unconcerned, he continued, "I'm not worried. I can see that, even with new abilities, you haven't truly progressed. But me... I have." His words were laden with an unwavering certainty.

At that exact moment, Seline closed her hands, while the clown, with a theatrical gesture, flicked a card to the side. The space around him began to distort in a surreal manner. Seline thought to herself, unease growing within her. "Why is he so calm? Can he really escape a spatial distortion that easily? He did last time... Will he again? No, this time is different. I used more mana! He won't be able to escape!"

"Indeed, there has been no progress in you," declared the clown with an expression of scorn, fading into the air as if made of smoke. In the next instant, in an act of pure magic, where he had stood, a mysterious card appeared, gently floating to the ground. However, unexpectedly and almost theatrically, he reappeared at his side, precisely at the point where he had thrown the previous card. "What a huge disappointment this will be for the master, to find out that such a promising talent as yours was wasted," lamented the clown with a tone laden with disdain and sorrow.

"Lies! He would never..." Seline began to ponder internally, interrupted by her own confusion and surprise.

"Who are you?" demanded Seline, her voice echoing a mix of curiosity and challenge.

"Well, well, guess who! Ohohohohoh, I was never a fan of Miss Perfection here," taunted the clown, throwing three cards towards Seline with a swift and precise movement, each card slicing through the air with a silent threat.

"He knows my nickname... He must be one of the master's four disciples, just like me." Seline processed this thought quickly, her mind racing. In an act of defense or perhaps strategy, she opened a rift in space, a corridor to an unknown space, and dove into it without hesitation.

"Ah, so you chose to flee, did you? Ohoohohoho," the clown laughed, a laugh that echoed sinisterly through the space, as he spread his arms in a dramatic gesture of triumph and mockery.

"Where did she go? Where will she emerge?" The clown pondered aloud, his eyes scanning the black void around, curiosity and caution dancing in his gaze.

"Better be cautious," he concluded, with a tone of voice mixing prudence and excitement. With a fluid and rehearsed movement, he threw four cards in different directions, each following its course like a hunter stalking its prey, preparing for any eventuality the impending confrontation might bring.

"When will she decide to attack?" The clown's mind was shrouded in uncertainty as he watched the environment with eyes widened immeasurably. In an almost involuntary gesture, he threw a card towards his own belly. If someone had the chance to peek inside the clown's innards, through that surreal opening in the fabric of reality forming in his belly, they would witness a macabre scene: a delicate hand moving sinisterly towards his heart, not before seizing the clown's vital organs with the intention of ruthlessly ripping them out. However, before that hand could reach its final target, it was abruptly intercepted by the card thrown, which cut it off, piercing the clown's body mercilessly.

"This damnation! She launched a sneaky attack... from the inside! Cursed be!" exclaimed the clown, as he fell to his knees, an act followed by spitting blood, a clear sign of his agony and despair.

"My arm..." Seline reflected silently, emerging from the dimensional rift, her eyes fixed on the clown, who was now vulnerable, kneeling before her.

"Again... I have been defeated once more." The bitter thought echoed in the clown's mind, an acknowledgment of his own failure.

"Why didn't you face me head-on? Have you lost the ability to fight as before? Was it necessary to resort to such trickery?" The clown hurled the accusation, his voice tinged with disdain and disbelief.

"The way in which you will meet your end is of no importance. What truly matters is that your destiny is to perish," Seline replied, her voice a mix of determination and coldness.

"Ohohohohoh—" A forced laugh emerged from the clown, abruptly interrupted by a violent coughing fit as he choked on his own blood. "You must know who I am, right? Or was I not memorable enough to be remembered?" The clown taunted, even on the brink of death, maintaining a trace of his mocking and defiant essence.

"Why did you attack my son?" Seline's voice vibrated with contained fury, a storm about to break. She longed for justice, for the right to know the reason behind such atrocity, but more than that, she sought to understand. Even in the face of the clown's imminent death, she demanded answers. The uncertainty about who the clown truly was hung in the air, an enigma that might never be solved.

"Why? Because I was instructed, I received the order, and I carried it out," the clown said, scoffing at her with a look that seemed to question her intelligence, as if the answer was the most obvious.

"Answer properly!" Irritation overflowed in Seline's voice, which, in an instant of anger, punched the space before her. A rift in reality tore open with the force of her blow, and her fist hit the clown's stomach with such intensity that he vomited more blood, a physical manifestation of his agonizing defeat.

"I answered! I received orders! That boy needed to die! You despicable! Have you never stopped to think about what you did to me?" The clown's anger exploded in venomous words, a desperate attempt to inflict pain, even as his own poured out in bright red.

"Hecto..." Seline murmured, her voice tinged with indifference. Even though the revelation of his identity brought back memories of the past, it did not change the course of her actions, it did not soften her battle-hardened heart.

"I knew... I knew you would find out who I am as soon as I knelt," Hecto thought, finding bitter satisfaction in his identity being recognized, even as deep pain consumed him.

"Why... Why did you choose to be a concubine instead of my wife?" The question that had haunted Hecto, an open wound that never healed, finally found voice, even knowing that any answer would be a blade deepening his suffering.

"Because I fell in love with him, not you," Seline responded, firm and unwavering. She felt no need to justify her feelings, to explain the reasons of her heart.

"I wanted to still be in love..." Seline thought, a deep sadness invading her being. The complexity of her feelings for her husband, exacerbated by the treatment dispensed to her son, who was not treated in the best way, left her in a whirlwind of emotions.

"Ohohoho, you cast all your dreams and aspirations to the wind, embracing the life of a concubine in exchange for... What? Love? Prestige?" The clown mocked with venomous disdain, speaking with an arrogance that made the air around them vibrate with his scorn. "Congratulations, ohohohohoh," he continued, his voice laden with sarcasm so thick it could be cut with a knife. "You abandoned your homeland, you renounced the possibility of ever seeing your parents again, all for what? A man?" The irony in his voice was palpable, a slap in the face of all the sacrifices Seline had made. Despite her efforts, Seline remained silent, her dignity unshakable before the provocations; she knew within herself that, despite moments of doubt and the unfavorable situation she found herself in, her vengeance had been, to some extent, accomplished. But there was still an outstanding issue, an open wound that needed healing. "Hecto, before I leave you on this threshold between life and death, I need to know: who ordered the assassination of my son?" Her voice was a sea of superficial calm, with turbulent currents of hidden emotion in the depths. She held her hand firmly, an impressive force of will preventing her from beheading Hecto right there.

"Ohohohoh— cough, COUGH." Hecto tried to maintain his arrogant posture, but he was interrupted by a coughing fit, as fresh blood flowed between his lips. "Ah, if only I knew... Perhaps, in this last breath of life, I would tell you. But the truth is that I plunged into this organization only to satisfy my thirst for revenge, a thirst that, you see, has led me to failure not once, but twice." There was resignation in his voice, a bitter acknowledgment that his fate was sealed. He was aware of the futility of pleading for life; memories of a previous ignored plea echoed in his mind, a sharp reminder that, for Seline, compassion had become a stranger.

Seline furrowed her brows, a look of distrust marked on her face. The incredulity was evident in her eyes; the idea that Hecto, a member of a sinister organization, would not know who had ordered the assassination of her son seemed absurd to her. She was convinced that he was lying, perhaps trying to buy time or simply to confuse her in his last moments.

"Do you really think I would believe such nonsense? That you would be involved in an organization without even knowing who commands your actions?" Seline questioned, her voice filled with skepticism and a hint of anger. "You underestimate my intelligence."

Hecto, realizing the evident disbelief on Seline's face, let out a hoarse and bitter laugh. "Ohohohohoho," he laughed, even though each laugh exacerbated the pain of his mortal wounds. "I can't blame you for not believing me. If I were in your place, perhaps I would do the same." His expression, for a moment, reflected an unexpected sincerity, or perhaps it was just another layer of his manipulation.

Then, in a gesture that no one could have predicted, Seline, with a fluid and precise movement, decapitated Hecto. His body fell, but, incredibly, his face still wore a smile, as if, even in death, he delighted in the perplexity he caused. "I have a gift for you..." were his last words, whispered with a mix of sarcasm and defiance.

Seline instantly became alert, her instincts telling her that the danger had not yet passed. She opened a dimensional rift, ready for any eventuality, but her curiosity and caution fought within her. What could this "gift" be? Before she could ponder further, the answer came explosively.

The cards that Hecto had thrown, a final trick from a dying clown, exploded with surprising force. Although Seline was far enough away to avoid the worst of the initial explosion, she did not anticipate what happened next. Numerous cards, hidden in Hecto's decapitated body, detonated in a massive explosion, a deadly trap prepared with meticulous care.

Caught off guard by the magnitude of the explosion, Seline was thrown backward, even as she entered her dimensional portal. The shockwave hit her with overwhelming force, casting her unconscious out of that intermediary space.

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