silently and watched events unfold from on high was all too liable to grow twisted and rotten. Thanks to their efforts, the situation had been resolved without incident. However, one mystery yet remained. "The thing is, neither Jeanne nor I had any idea who the old woman actually was," Izabella had concluded her report. However, Elisabeth had a hunch. Long, long ago, the Capital was on the verge of being engulfed by a horrible mass of flesh. Before dealing with the mass, she and Kaito had gone around dispatching underlings. And in the course of doing so, they saved an old woman. Afterward, the woman got down on her knees and thanked them over and over again. And right before the Torture Princess's execution, she had grabbed at the spectators' sleeves and desperately begged them not to execute her rescuer. Even so, Elisabeth never imagined that she would show up again and with such vigor. What in the heavens compels her so? ...Nay, 'tis simple. The woman was simply full of regret. Regret at not having been able to save the person who saved her. When Elisabeth laid out her theory, Izabella smiled and nodded. "Then this, too, is the fruit of your labors." Elisabeth elected to withhold her modesty and simply agree. Blood drenched as their world was, it still had budding seeds of hopeâ€”seeds that the Torture Princess and her dim-witted servant had strewn behind them as they went. But in spite of that, the Torture Princess was going to betray everything. In order to save the person who saved her. "Well, it's not like I didn't see this coming!" Of late, Vlad's incessant cheer had become even more pronounced. It was unclear when it had started or what had brought it on, but once again, he was merry as could be. He went on in a lilting tone. "After all, our original plan was to smash the Diablo pillar, and you at its core along with it, before it could collapse of its own accord! Of course, that plan got shelved when a certain fool decided to shoulder God and Diablo himself, but that in itself was an aberration. As such, returning to the whole smashing plan seems an entirely natural course of events. I have to say, though, what an ungrateful lot they are!" That was simply the way the world worked. After all, creation was but an unwanted child born from a single woman's despair. "And as such, there's little point expecting anything from it! Wouldn't you agree, my precious?" Vlad thrust his index finger straight at Elisabeth and held the pose. He was clearly waiting for some sort of response. Again. It would seem that his love for friendly banter with his beloved daughter had not waned. Elisabeth begrudgingly posed a question to him. "Vlad, why is it you're so needlessly chipper? ...And why did you come along, for that matter?" "What a silly question, my darling. Why, I'm just trying to help my beloved dauâ€” Oh dear, I felt that one." A needle buried itself in Vlad's left eye with a squik. It was one of Elisabeth's Silk Pins. Vlad plucked the blinding weapon out. Just as Elisabeth expected, there wasn't so much as a scratch left on his eye afterward. In a way, it was impressive how his entire being managed to be so completely and thoroughly farcical. Elisabeth shrugged, then turned to face forward once more. A magnificent snowscape lay spread out before her. They were in a place with no day or night, a pure place crafted from snow and water, wind and mana. Above them, a rainbow sheen hung in the milky white sky. In truth, though, it was no sky at all. It was just a hollow space with no sun, no moon, and no stars. The ground was piled high with delicate little snowflakes, like tiny ice sculptures that been dumped out across the ground at random. ...The World's End. That was how the Saint had designated it. Elisabeth strode forward through the beautiful, empty, unchanging landscape. Behind her, Vlad followed along. He claimed that his aim was to help his beloved daughter, but there was no way of telling how true that was. Trying to understand what made He Who Rears Hell Within His Mind tick was no easy feat. And to obfuscate matters further, Vlad was wearing a most enigmatic smile. His buffoonish diction remains much the same as always, but that expression of his seems...different somehow. Elisabeth shook her head. That might be true, but so what? Now was no time to be getting caught up in his nonsensical pace. She needed to hurry. After hearing the news from Lute, Elisabeth refrained from immediately acting so as to at least carry out the bare minimum of her duties. Instead, she headed back to her room and waited for Izabella. Izabella gave her report, and Elisabeth conveyed Satisbarina's information to her in turn. Then, once the tripartite conference was over and Maclaeus gave her the order to stand by for the time being...she slipped out of the World Tree. In all likelihood, the decision to destroy the crystal was made midway through the conference. Yet the order I was given was to stand by for a time. In short, that time is precisely when they aim to mobilize the paladins. If I don't make haste... Elisabeth had but one objectiveâ€”to take the crystal with Kaito and Hina sleeping inside and hide it somewhere safe. She already had a spot in mind, so the one issue was how she was going to get the crystal there in a way that couldn't be tracked. After considering a number of different methods, she eventually just shook her head. "Eh, I'm sure it'll work out. I am a genius, after all...and more to the point, I haven't the time to spend racking my brain." Elisabeth's voice trailed off into a hoarse murmur, and as it did, Vlad let out a cry of wonderment. "Oh-ho, now this is a nostalgic sight! Magnificent as always, I see." Everything else paled in comparison to the oddity of the sight before them. It was physical proof of the miracle they had borne witness to. And it was the image that marked the end of their dilapidated fairy tale. Resting before them were two toppled-over pillars of ivy. They were like corpses of giants, each lying atop the other and propping it up. A cave sat at their center, like a profane little shrine, and the ivy's surface was still dotted with azure and crimson roses. Because of that, petals of both hues fluttered through the air without end. All in all, it made for a magnificent, florid sight, like something out of a pagan festival. And at the very center of it all, deep within the cave, sat a crystal. A man and woman were sleeping inside it. Their expressions were tranquil, and because of how transparent the crystal was, they looked almost close enough to touch from the outside. In truth, though, they were farther than the World's End, like unreachable flowers frozen in ice. And in front of Kaito Sena and Hina's unwaking formsâ€” "...I see. I'd not have thought you'd go to such lengths. 'Twould seem the Craven King has become quite the force to be reckoned with." â€”stood a young man clad in fine furs. A sizable group of paladins stood at the ready behind him. Jeanne and Izabella accompanied him, too, as did a number of saints. His hands were clasped together sadly. It was Maclaeus Filliana. As the human king stood before the crystal of sacrifice at the World's End he slowly raised his head. "So you anticipated my actions, then... Or, no, you intentionally let the information slip to Lute, didn't you?" "It's sad, Elisabeth. Every person in this world owes their life to the Mad King." Maclaeus answered Elisabeth's question by talking about something entirely unrelated, which she took as an affirmation. She narrowed her eyes threateningly. However, Maclaeus didn't falter. "Sir Kaito Sena was a much better king than I am. In fact, you could even call him a messiah. And yet nobody cares in the slightest for his well-being. It's a sad state of affairs, and honestly, quite shameful. However..." The greatest outcome was, as always, the greatest good for the greatest number. True dominion of the board lay with those powerless pawns. In a sense, the masses were like a single sprawling ruler. The things they thought and said had profound effects on the rest of the board. For how could they not? "Peace needs to be... I need to maintain peace, so this is the only choice I have." "Hmm. 'Choice,' eh?" Lute was a sworn friend of Kaito Sena's and the person who regretted Ragnarok's outcome the most. With him stationed in the tripartite conference, 'twas but a matter of time before the information made its way to me. 'Tis a simple enough trap, but... No... Something was offâ€”Elisabeth could feel it. But thenâ€” Clang. A hard noise rang out, as though to cut off her train of thought. Two women stood before Maclaeus. To his left, silver. To his right, gold. Like a silver rapier and a golden flower. Both were breathtakingly beautiful, and both were well acquainted with the landscape of the World's End. And there was something else they had in common, too, Elisabeth knewâ€”they were both terrifying to have as enemies. "Izabella and Jeanne... I never imagined I would end up fighting you two lovebirds." "Nor did I. It's regrettable that things have come to this," responded Izabella. "Is it? I myself think it's quite wonderful. Somehow or other, the lady and I have never had a proper battle. This might not be half-bad. Also, we ain't lovebirds! And not for lack of tryin', but that shit's easier said than done!" Jeanne ended her comment on an expressionless lament. As always, she knew where her priorities lay. Now that she had Izabella and Jeanne's reactions to go off, Elisabeth thought back over the situation. Ah, aye. Sure enough... She wordlessly cast her crimson gaze toward Maclaeus. However, he too said nothing. The paladins and saints lined up behind him were silent as well. One of the saints, a young girl with both legs bound, returned Elisabeth's gaze with a cold glare. Next, Elisabeth turned around. Unsurprisingly, Vlad was smiling. This time, though, it was back to his normal condescending smirk. Now Elisabeth could tell exactly what was going on. However, she nodded nonetheless. "Very wellâ€”then battle it shall be." Her tone was that of a child who had just been invited to play. She tapped her toes on the ground twice, and the snow crystals falling around her cracked and shattered. Their fragments glinted radiantly as they floated through the air. The Torture Princess, surrounded by their light, extended her fair arm straight out. A long sword's handle fell into her upturned palm. Elisabeth grabbed her blade. Jeanne raised her hand, the very image of an orchestral conductor. Izabella dropped to all fours like a feral animal. The paladins gulped. The saints offered no reaction. And the king closed his eyes. Elisabeth twirled her sword, its blade carving through the air as it turned. She held it at the ready. That moment, everyone present saw the same vision. It was as though rich music had just filled the airâ€” "Executioner's Sword of Frankenthal." "Waltz." â€”for it was clear to all that a ball had just begun. A ball replete with the sound of blades lightly clashing. Azure and crimson petals danced in unison. Crystalline snowflakes glinted in the light. And beneath the milky-white sky, they were joined by a series of sharp silver flashes. Izabella wielded her arms as weapons, each one like a metal whip, their strikes arcing through the air like a blow from a scythe. Many of her fingers had been replaced with