The wind had changed.

Evelina noticed it first in the way her wings moved through the air, in how the pressure against her feathers no longer felt openly hostile, only heavy and lingering.

The Grand Cleric’s relentless force, that suffocating divine weight that had pressed down on her since the battle began, was finally starting to loosen.

Below them, the grey city stretched out like a frozen sea. The cathedral district was barely visible now, swallowed by ash, shadow, and the slow, creeping tide of Cael’s spell.

Even so, Evelina could still feel the ritual pulsing through the stone beneath it all, could still sense the dying convulsions of something that had been gathering strength for decades.

And now, at last, it was weakening.

"The secondary arrays," the Grand Cleric said. Her voice was strained now, stripped of its earlier warmth. She hovered several yards away, one hand pressed to her wounded shoulder, golden blood slipping steadily between her fingers. "You sent someone to destroy them."

Evelina spread her wings a little wider. "I sent several someones."

[Abyssal Lance]

A fresh volley streaked toward the Grand Cleric, this time not aimed for her center, but for the spaces around her, the paths she might take to evade.

The woman in white twisted past the first three, knocked the fourth aside with a flicker of golden light, and took the fifth in her wounded shoulder. A sharp gasp escaped her as she faltered in the air, and the sixth lance slipped cleanly past what remained of her guard.

It tore a long line across her ribs.

Golden blood spilled through the rent in her white robe and scattered into the grey sky.

"You’re slowing down," Evelina said.

"I’m pacing myself."

The Grand Cleric’s wings flared, and a wave of golden light burst outward, not toward Evelina, but toward the city below. It struck the grey tide and forced it back for an instant, just long enough for a few streets to regain their color.

Then the grey rolled forward again, ravenous as ever, and swallowed them once more.

"You’re wasting energy," Evelina said.

"The faithful—"

"The faithful are dead." Evelina’s voice did not soften. "Every pilgrim who made it inside the cathedral is ash. Your fuel is gone. Your relics are dust. The only thing still keeping this ritual alive is you."

The Grand Cleric’s wings wavered.

Her halo flickered, dimming from brilliant gold to something nearer to candlelight. The pressure in the air shifted again, and this time Evelina felt the Sanctuary spell beginning to fracture.

Not because she had broken it.

Because the Grand Cleric no longer had the strength to hold it together.

"You’ve lost," Evelina said.

The Grand Cleric lifted her face to look at her.

The white blindfold had slipped further, and through the gap Evelina could see both eyes now, golden irises blurred with tears that had not yet fallen.

"Have I?"

[Binding Light]

Chains of pure radiance shot from the Grand Cleric’s palms, too fast and too near to avoid. They lashed around Evelina’s wrists, her ankles, her throat, and cinched tight with enough force to wrench a gasp from her.

Her wings beat hard against the air as she fought the bindings, but the chains held.

"You forget," the Grand Cleric said as she drifted closer, golden blood still falling from her wounds, "that I have been doing this for longer than you have been alive. I have fought demons before. I have killed them."

[Demonic Surge]

Evelina’s choker blazed.

Crimson light erupted from her throat and burned through the Binding Light as though it were paper, scorching the chains into cinders before they could tighten any further. She ripped herself free, wrists, ankles, throat, and lunged.

Not with magic.

With her bare hands.

Her claws slashed across the Grand Cleric’s face, tearing the white blindfold away and carving parallel furrows into the woman’s cheeks. Golden blood welled at once, running down her chin and dripping onto the already torn white robe.

The Grand Cleric screamed.

Not from pain.

From frustration.

Her halo sputtered and went dark. Her wings folded in on themselves, then vanished. The divine pressure that had weighed against Evelina’s mind for the entire battle dissolved like mist under morning sun.

Evelina caught her by the throat.

She held the Grand Cleric suspended in the grey air, the woman’s feet hanging uselessly below her, her hands clawing weakly at Evelina’s fingers.

"Do it," the Grand Cleric whispered. "End it."

[Succubus Kiss]

Evelina leaned in close.

Her lips brushed the Grand Cleric’s ear, feather-light, almost gentle.

"No," she whispered.

Then she let go.

The Grand Cleric fell.

For a moment she dropped like a stone, her torn robe streaming behind her, golden blood scattering through the grey air. Then her wings flared back into existence just above the rooftops, catching her before impact, and she shot upward again, eyes blazing, hands already raised.

[Guiding Rays]

The beams of light ripped through the air, faster than before, wilder now, stripped of precision.

Evelina did not dodge.

She flew straight through them.

The light scorched her wings, tore through the edge of her transformed dress, and seared a burning line across her thigh. She did not stop.

She closed the distance.

[Demonic Claw]

Her hand drove through the Grand Cleric’s chest.

Golden blood burst across Evelina’s face, hot and thick, clinging to her lashes, her lips, her chin. The Grand Cleric’s eyes widened, her mouth parting around a sound that never emerged.

Evelina pulled her hand free.

The Grand Cleric’s body dropped.

This time there was no last-second recovery, no flare of wings to catch her. She fell through the grey air, through ash and shadow, and struck the cathedral roof with a sound like stone breaking.

She did not rise.

Evelina remained hovering above the cathedral, breathing hard, golden blood cooling against her skin. Her wings ached. Her thigh burned where the light had touched her.

Already the succubus’s influence was beginning to fade, her violet hair paling back toward white, her claws shrinking into ordinary nails.

Below, the grey tide began to recede.

Color returned to the cathedral district street by street, building by building, as Cael’s spell finally loosened its hold on the city.

Evelina descended.

And there, she found an unlikely someone already waiting for her. It was Jayden, and behind him was Cael with an expression just as confused as hers.

"Is this the welcoming party?" she asked.