She didn’t know why, but with Belldandy safe, she could finally lock onto the fight ahead.

Before she could strike, a black surge blasted out, rippling from Aphelia and Sigdrifa’s clash like a storm tide.

“What the hell is that?!”

Odin jerked his spear up to guard, but the wave hit like a mountain dropped.

Caught off guard, even Odin was hurled back, dust and ash spiraling.

The kneeling dead were worse.

Under the black shock, their broken bodies shattered into a storm of fragments, streaming into the hanging black mist.

By Aphelia’s side, a shadow of pitch was about to take shape.

All of Niflheim trembled.

A space that had looked alive turned bone-cold; trees rotted, flowers withered, and pale bones rose along the Rhine like frozen reeds.

“Again… you want to seize my body again?!”

Aphelia forced her eyes open, pain first, fury second; her gaze lit with bloodshot threads like cracked lava.

Two girls in ornate dress screamed like hungry ghosts.

Blood billowed from them, then caught and became the Crimson Fire, a wildfire hungry to devour everything.

Aphelia grinned with mad heat.

Her Bracer Gauntlets flared into flame.

She drove a fist into her own heart, and as the heart halted, the Crimson Flame poured inward, flooding toward her sea of consciousness.

“You despicable coward—get out of me!”

Her arm, burning with Crimson Flame, plunged into herself.

Under Sigdrifa’s startled eyes, Aphelia roared and ripped the twisted black shadow free, flinging it into a crimson sea of flames.

With her shout, the pitch-black silhouette was swallowed by that crimson sea, flames licking like wolves, ready to turn it to ash.

“Aphelia… do you truly wish me dead?”

From the crimson sea of flames came a soft, helpless sigh.

A massive scythe parted the crimson sea with a steel arc.

Wind from its swing scattered the blaze.

The scythe’s wielder appeared before them, hanging quiet in the void, like the Reaper of old tales.

“Reaper, so you’re rotten too.

You dragged me into your space for this moment, to steal my body—didn’t you!”

Aphelia’s snort was dry ice, her distrust flaring before her stance.

Under the crimson sea’s pull, Aphelia’s mind slid toward shadow.

With Sigdrifa present, pain and hate were perfect fuel for the Crimson Fire.

The Crimson Flame began to interfere, whispering in her thoughts.

Seeing her state, the Reaper sighed, a winter gust.

She vanished from the air and, in the next beat, stood behind Aphelia with her great scythe.

The Crimson Flame burning on Aphelia went out at once, like a storm snuffed by rain.

Her raging mind and killing will dropped away like a burden unhooked.

The two ornate girls dissolved into light, becoming Bracer Gauntlets again and clasping Aphelia’s forearms.

“Now, can we talk calmly?”

A coolness slid from behind, washing the grit from Aphelia’s chest.

Her head cleared like dawn breaking fog.

“Phew… I can manage.

But Reaper, your suspicion isn’t gone.”

“You’re chatting so sweetly, Keeper of the Coffin.

Shouldn’t you count me in?”

Sigdrifa’s voice smiled; pure white crystal unfurled around her like frost.

Hearing her, the Reaper lifted her hood, showing the face beneath, pale as moonlight on iron.

“Whatever needs saying, say it later.

Right now, the urgent problem is Sigdrifa.”

She didn’t like it, but a strong ally in a fight was like rain in drought.

In reason and in need, there was no refusal.

Aphelia nodded.

She steadied her breath and raised her fists, ready to rush Sigdrifa, but the Reaper checked her with a small gesture.

“Sigdrifa. Long time no see.

Looks like you haven’t improved.”

The dark-skinned Reaper’s voice was cold steel, not quite human.

Standing at her side, Aphelia felt it more sharply—like a marionette pulled by unseen strings.

“Oh? Then tell me—where am I lacking?”

Sigdrifa kept smiling, hands resting lightly on the pure white crystal at her flanks.

Seeing her stance, the Reaper continued.

“Sorry. I misspoke.”

“You’re not completely blind, then…”

“You haven’t just failed to improve.

Your temper’s worse.

You’ll never surpass Brynhildr.”

Before Sigdrifa could preen, the Reaper’s blank face delivered the cut clean.

Aphelia glanced over, surprised the icy Reaper could jab like that—sharp and sly.

“Heh. Still merciless with that tongue, I see!”

Sigdrifa smiled.

Pure white crystal shaped into a spear.

Her figure vanished like frost smoke, and in the next beat the sharp tip was at the Reaper’s face, cold light nearly pricking her pupils.

Even with no room to spare, Sigdrifa’s thrust hit a subtle hitch.

The Reaper swept her black robe and sidestepped, letting the spear hiss past.

The cold gleam skimmed her cheek.

Her great scythe swung in answer, cutting toward Sigdrifa—an impossible reversal in a single breath.

Pure white crystal surged again.

Another crystal spear lunged from below, hunting the Reaper’s ribs.

Aphelia couldn’t stand idle.

Crimson Flame leapt on her Bracer Gauntlets.

Her fist-wind smashed the spear meant for the Reaper’s belly.

“Aphelia~ you’re joining too?”

Sigdrifa’s form flickered.

She hurled a crystal spear at Aphelia, but the Reaper’s scythe split it midair, shattering it into glittering hail.

Her black robe stood as a barrier before Aphelia, a night curtain against ice.

“Work with me.

You don’t want her running wild.”

The Reaper’s voice didn’t ripple.

Her robe billowed without wind, and now Aphelia saw clearly: beneath that wide black cloth floated countless small hourglasses, each shedding a faint, uncanny glow.

“Of course.

I never planned to let her walk away.”

Aphelia smiled, fists tapping together.

Crimson sparks crossed between her knuckles; the green gem on her gauntlets pulsed with light.

She floated beside the Reaper, eyes locked on Sigdrifa.

“I wasn’t planning to run.

What’s with ‘joining or not’?”

Aphelia rushed in, a cold snort first.

Crimson Flame shaped into a barrier before her, blocking crystal thorns that burst mid-flight.

She wove through the air, unstoppable, her fist arcing for Sigdrifa’s face.

“Ah—don’t be hasty~”

From the void, a heavy force shoved Aphelia half a step back.

Countless crystals surged in, trying to swarm her like winter briars.

Aphelia raised both arms, Crimson Flame poised to rise and roar—

Before she could strike, a crisp shatter rang out.

The Reaper’s scythe had already sliced the crystal thorns clean.

Her figure appeared at Aphelia’s side like a shadow stepping from dusk.

“Go.”

“Didn’t need you to say!”

Aphelia lunged again.

This time the Crimson Flame shaped into twin swords in her hands, blades blazing as she slashed for Sigdrifa.

“Foolish.”

Before pure white crystal could bloom, the Reaper cut in from the flank.

Under her wide robe, an hourglass snapped; golden sand drifted into the air like stardust.

Sigdrifa grunted, her raised hand freezing mid-motion—like an invisible grip pinning her.

Aphelia wouldn’t waste the opening.

Her twin Crimson Flame swords stabbed through Sigdrifa’s shoulder, searing heat exploding outward.

She released the hilts and drove both fists down on Sigdrifa without hesitation.

Pure white crystal burst again, lancing up from Sigdrifa’s ribs.

With both arms raised, Aphelia couldn’t guard against the under-thrust.

No need for words—the eerie black shadow arrived on cue.

The Reaper swung her great scythe again.

Aphelia was hammering her upper body, so the scythe cut for her lower half.

With power near equal, even Sigdrifa wouldn’t take that strike head-on.

White crystal surged into a forest at Sigdrifa’s front, jagged trunks of ice-light.

Aphelia’s twin Crimson Flame swords detonated into a blast, searing fire invading Sigdrifa’s body like a summer blaze in dry reeds.

Seizing the heartbeat of cover, Aphelia and the Reaper withdrew together, smoke and cinders curling behind them.