The Crimson Colosseum stretched before them, a vast arena carved from what looked like a single massive bone. The walls curved upward in impossible spirals, lined with thousands of seats filled with demons of every shape and size. They roared and cheered, their voices creating a cacophony that shook the very air.
At the center of the arena stood a figure that made Ariel's blood run cold.
Lord Malphas was everything she remembered and worse. Seven feet tall, with skin like polished obsidian and eyes that burned with purple fire. His massive frame was draped in robes that seemed to be cut from liquid shadow, and when he smiled, his teeth gleamed like silver razors.
"Ariel," his voice boomed across the arena, "my faithful servant. Have you come home at last?"
"I am no one's servant," Ariel replied, but her voice shook slightly.
"Oh, but you are. You've been mine for three centuries. Did you think a few weeks of freedom would change that?" Malphas raised his hand, and dark energy crackled between his fingers. "You belong to me. Your soul, your swords, your very existence—all mine."
Ariel stepped forward, her twin blades beginning to glow with inner light. "Then I guess I'll have to take it back."
"You can try." Malphas laughed, and the sound was like breaking chains. "But you won't be fighting alone."
The shadows around Ariel began to writhe and twist. Suddenly, a figure emerged from the darkness—identical to Ariel in every way except for the hungry gleam in its eyes.
"Meet your shadow," Malphas said. "Every strike you make, it will make. Every technique you use, it will counter. You cannot defeat yourself, Ariel. You can only submit."
The Shadow-Ariel drew its own versions of her soul-forged blades, and the arena erupted in cheers.
"Ariel!" Dreyl shouted from the platform. "You can do this!"
"The rules are simple," Bael announced to the crowd. "The challenger must defeat her enslaver in single combat. Her companions may observe, but they cannot interfere directly. Let the first trial... begin!"
Ariel and her shadow began to circle each other, both moving with identical grace. The crowd's roars faded to background noise as they studied each other, looking for an opening.
"This is bad," Viper muttered. "How do you fight someone who knows every move you're going to make?"
"She'll figure it out," Saint said, but his hands were tight on his pistols. "She has to."
Shadow-Ariel struck first, her right blade coming in a diagonal slash aimed at Ariel's shoulder. Ariel parried with her left sword, but the moment she did, Shadow-Ariel's left blade swept toward her legs.
Ariel jumped, flipping backward—and Shadow-Ariel did the same, their movements perfectly synchronized.
They landed simultaneously, immediately launching into a complex series of attacks and counters. Steel rang against steel as the two warriors danced around each other, neither able to land a decisive blow.
"You see?" Malphas called out. "You cannot win. You are fighting your own limitations made manifest."
Ariel pressed harder, her blades moving in patterns that blurred the air. But for every attack she made, Shadow-Ariel had the perfect counter.
"Come on!" Dreyl shouted. "Stop fighting fair!"
"I'm not fighting fair!" Ariel snapped back. "I'm fighting myself!"
"Exactly!" Yumi's voice cut through the arena noise. "Stop fighting yourself and start fighting him!"
Ariel's eyes widened. She glanced at Malphas, who stood calmly at the edge of the arena, watching with amusement.
"The shadow only mirrors what I do," she breathed. "It doesn't think—it just reacts."
Shadow-Ariel lunged forward with both blades extended.
Instead of parrying or dodging, Ariel did something unexpected.
She charged straight at it.
The shadow, confused by the unprecedented move, hesitated for a split second. That was all Ariel needed.
She grabbed Shadow-Ariel's wrists, using the momentum to flip over it and land behind. For a moment, they were back-to-back, both breathing hard.
"You want to know the difference between us?" Ariel said. "I choose my own moves."
She spun and drove both blades into Shadow-Ariel's back.
The shadow let out a soundless scream and dissolved into wisps of darkness.
But Malphas was already moving.
"Clever," he said, dark energy swirling around his frame. "But you still have to face me."
The arena began to shift. Bone walls closed in, the floor cracked, and lava seeped through, turning the colosseum into a hellscape.
"I am Lord of the Seventh Circle!" Malphas roared. "I command the fires of Hell itself!"
A pillar of lava erupted. Ariel rolled away, her blades glowing brighter.
"You've gotten stronger," Malphas admitted. "But I am eternal. I am—"
"You're a bully," Ariel interrupted. "You prey on the weak. But I'm done being your property."
She raised her swords. And for the first time in centuries—they answered to her alone.
They changed in her hands, becoming radiant with pure light.
"Impossible," Malphas hissed. "They're mine!"
"No," Ariel said. "Not anymore."
She moved—fast and fierce.
Blades met shadow, light met flame, and Ariel struck with everything she had.
Malphas stumbled, bleeding shadow.
"You cannot—"
"The contract was for a slave. I'm not a slave."
The fiery scroll appeared between them.
With one final slash, Ariel cut through it.
The scroll ignited.
Malphas screamed.
He dissolved into ash.
The arena fell silent.
Then the demons began to cheer.
"The first trial is complete," Bael declared. "The challenger stands free."
As the platform rose, Ariel looked down at her glowing blades.
"How do you feel?" Dreyl asked.
Ariel smiled.
"Free."
But Bael's expression had changed.
Where once there was amusement, now there was respect.
"One down," he said. "Three to go."
He gestured toward the next chamber.
The Hanging Gardens of Dis waited.
Thunder rolled across Hell's sky.
Saint's trial was about to begin.