(In the point of view of Violet Belladonna)

***

Queen Lara, King Vortigern, I'm sorry.

"I failed you!" I mumbled an indistinguishable cry as I let my tears flow from my eyes. It's hopeless. I can't do this anymore—I really am the wrong person for this job. I couldn't protect the children...

"I'm a failure..." I whispered as I saw the bride place her stone to where it was sitting earlier on her back.

"Yooouuuurrr turn, woman! The best treeaaasure in the kingdom is noooot a treaaassuure after aaaaalll waaaAAHHAARRAAHARHARHAAARAAHAARR!"

She extended her arms towards me, and a red ball suddenly appeared on both of her outstretched hands.

I know this magic. I know it all too well. I didn't know what to do; I was at a loss; helpless and weak. I feel so stupid compared to an invincible sorceress like her, and I doubt anyone in this continent could ever beat someone like her.

This magic she's casting is the same magic she used earlier on the wall. A concentrated form of mana that would detonate everything in the immediate vicinity after a long cast time. Without thinking, I instinctively used my body as a shield to protect the princes, facing my back on the bride with my eyes closed tightly and my arms wrapped around the princes, never letting go.

It's supposed to have ten minutes of casting time, but the bride pulled it off within ten seconds. I heard her ear-piercing scream as she charged the explosion in her arms like a short but dramatic build-up to an intense crescendo!

Three…

Two…

One…

…

What happened?

Nothing.

Nothing happened.

There is no crescendo. There is no explosion. There is no death.

"AAARRRGGHHHH!"

There is only the bride's blood-curdling scream.

I looked behind me to see a man piercing a blade in the bride's throat. The man stood above the stone on the giantess' back as he struggled to thrust his sword further into her neck. I noticed how a single hound kept persistently biting his shoulder while he tried his hardest to pierce her thick skin.

"Shut up!" The soldier screamed as he struggled to maintain his balance while the bride jumped around exaggeratedly to show her pain. "Your voice is annoying!"

Not minding the hound wounding his shoulder, the lone soldier persisted on holding onto his sword as his battle cry reverberated throughout the darkened room along with the bride's screech of agony. While their debacle ruined the faultless tombs all over their surroundings, the blood-curdling growls of the mutt biting the soldier's shoulder seemed almost unbearable as it went along with the yells and cries of the two combatants.

And I was there, awestricken at what I'm seeing before me.

"Sir…" I whispered weakly as hard as I could, ignoring my aching throat. "… Damian."

The soldier then pulled the giantess's frizzy hair as he kicked the hilt of his sword to dig it deeper into the bride's throat. This then made the ugly sorceress let out a tortured wail. 

"YES!" I yelled as hard as I could with much happiness in my heart. Indeed I am happy at this very moment. Perhaps because this man had saved me from certain death for a second time… But also because I am glad the valiant knight had survived.

Sir Damian motherfucking Carmichael is alive! He leaped from the stone on the bride's back and landed on her head. He pulled his sword with ease before leaping off her bobbing head, landing in front of me.

"Try that again, wretch!" He shouted with a spine-chilling cry as he pulled the hound off his shoulder and threw it to the ground. "Your magic is as weak as a needle, nay, weaker!" As he said so, he stomped his feet onto the convulsing black hound on the floor with a bang, ending the feral beast's life once and for all with a soft whimper. "I am your opponent now, witch!" Sir Damian proclaimed to the walking-garbage-creature standing before him. He then let out a hoarse but booming roar with his arms outstretched. I marveled at his valor with awe as I remained on the moist cobblestone floor of the catacomb.

His armor is filled with darkened bile and hissing blood; I am unsure whether those are his blood after slaughtering countless hounds before coming to my aid. His body is filled with holes and scratches, some of them even have residue fangs hanging on them while his sword that was once silver now gleamed with a fresh new crimson and black tint.

The bride threw countless spells at him. None of them worked!

"Your magic will never work on me, witch!"

"AAAARRRGGHHH!" The bride screamed from the top of her lungs while ruffling her head like a deranged psychopath, ruining her already ravaged hair. "THEN DIIIIEEEE!"

Sir Damian remained steadfast in protecting the princes and I. Meanwhile, I crawled towards the lion statue behind the tomb of Queen Lara. I tried to turn the fifth fang of the lion statue counterclockwise, but it's stuck! It's moving a bit, but it's not turning completely. It feels like a barrel lid closed tightly but not too tight to the point where it's immovable.

Bang!

A force so strong was suddenly hurled towards Sir Damian's left side, and it sent him flying towards the wall. The thing that suddenly flew towards the soldier was a tomb, and it stuck on Sir Damian's body as if it was glued on tight to him—locking him there on the wall, pushing him further as he hangs above the ground with the tomb still sticking on his body. Blood spurted out of Sir Damian's mouth and slowly trickled down into his chin, dripping on the wall before finally falling on the ground. It seemed like the bride has used some kind of psychic magic to throw a tomb towards Sir Damian, launching the poor soldier onto the wall. 

After seeing that, I tried my hardest to turn the damned fifth fang of the lion statue but to no avail. It's not moving at all!

The bride slowly walked towards me, her palm pointing in my direction while her other arm was facing Sir Damian.

"Magic can't kill him? I'll show him magic can kill him!" The bride said in a rather childish tone but with the voice of an old hag. "Magic can kill everything!"

The bride slowly cast the same explosion magic she was charging earlier, but this time, it's now pointing directly at me, a few centimeters away from my face.

I can't believe it. Last time I saw this spell being used, I saw that it needs about seven people to cast it, and when they did, those same seven people fainted after charging it, not even after a successful shot. This woman is charging the same spell again as if its basic newbie spell a seven-year-old learns in magic school.

"YOU'RE DEEEEAAD! DEEEAD! DEAD! DEAD! DEAD! DEAD! YOU. ARE. DEAAAAAAD!"

The bride screamed once again with all her might as if the same energy she uses to scream came from the same bottomless source where her explosion magic originated.

Then she died.

…

Wait.

Huh?

Without warning, a wooden pole impaled her from her vagina straight to her mouth, making us hear the cracking of her bones and the ripping of her skin. Soon enough, her upper body finally gave in and cracked open into four different hanging pieces while her blood painted her body as it sagged from her waist.

She looks like a beautiful gumamela.

The wooden pole that grew out of nowhere below her waist slowly grew to become a thin spruce tree that gradually stretched her body further. The spruce tree became even larger in a short amount of time; it formed cracks all over the bride's upper body, sending gushes of her own red and blue blood throughout the stone pavement.

What is happening? What is this? I'm supposed to be dead right now! How come… The tables had turned somehow.

Vines started to grow from within the bride's waist and it entangled her until her stomach contorted, keeping the remains of her upper body hanging to the still-growing spruce tree.

I also realized that her limbs are… slashed off of her body. It's now lying on the ground a few inches away from us, crimson blood with a tinge of dark blue liquid oozed from within her severed limb.

The spruce tree started growing some branches and leaves, leaving holes all over the bride's body, showering the catacomb with her blood, accompanied by the blue liquid with it. She was silent. She didn't scream; she didn't gasp; she didn't moan. It happened in such a short amount of time that I bet she didn't even realize what was happening to her.

I can't blame her.

Really, what is happening to her?

Branches grew from within her insides and started bursting out, starting from her feet to her forehead; leaves started sprouting just as fast, making the holes over her body to gape even further.

Now, she looked like a part of the tree trunk underneath the thick leaves of a spruce tree hidden among the dark-green leaves.

That's when I realized... A baby is floating above my head. He was levitating from the ground without the aid of my magic—he's doing this to himself… with his own abilities. He's using magic—a baby is… I can't believe it! He was floating so casually while looking at the spruce tree that started to grow spontaneously in the middle of the mausoleum.

The baby chuckled when the spruce tree finally stopped growing, revealing a gigantically anti-climactic conclusion to this lengthy battle. It pierced through the ceiling of the mausoleum, and it covers the entire vicinity of our surroundings. 

The baby once again chuckled, this time louder as the bride's blood ceases to spurt out of her body.

I looked at my arm and saw that only one baby, prince John, laid on my arms, sleeping soundly without a care to the world. I took the floating baby from the air and put him gently on my arms, kissing his forehead as much as I can.

"I can't believe it, Prince Nevermore…" I said, trying my hardest not to weep in vain. "You saved me. Thank you. Thank you, prince, thank you." I hugged both princes in my arms as hard as I could, ignoring the spruce tree that's standing like a coffin for the bride amidst the darkness within the mausoleum.

I was so stunned at what I saw that I didn't even realize that a tomb was falling into the ground until I heard the grunt of a man that came once it crashed on the floor.

I reached out to the floating baby on top of me; his eyes are glowing, and his body is radiating a crimson glow. I then walked towards the heaving soldier beside the mausoleum's wall. 

"Sir Damian, are you okay?" I whispered as I helped him lay on the ground properly.

"What just happened?" Whispered Sir Damian as he panted weakly with his body resting on the floor.

I gazed at Prince Nevermore. The glow in his eyes is no more, and the radiating crimson light all over her body is slowly disappearing. Instead, red lines slowly started to form all over his body like intricate line art, prickling him from beneath his skin, forming a complicated set of red tattoos all over his body.

I then diverted my attention to Sir Damian, still not believing what I'm seeing with my own eyes.

"The prince just saved our life."

Both Sir Damian and I stared at each other as the catacomb slowly regained its stillness and quietness once again.