Memoirs of Your Local Small-time Villainess

Scarlett edged back towards the chamber’s entrance as Mistress got to work at the heart of the forge. Thanks to Thainnith’s legacy, Scarlett knew exactly what she was looking at: an Empyreal Crucible — a relic from the days of the Zuver, priceless beyond measure and beyond the skill of any contemporary craftsman.

She watched with slight fascination as Mistress began feeding the Crucible with the assortment of rare and exotic materials floating through the air. Each new material fed into its gaping maw caused the forge to pulse and shimmer with vibrant, otherworldly hues. The woman really wasn’t sparing any expenses.

Scarlett’s gaze followed the intricate rune patterns that materialised across the Crucible’s surface. More than half of the runes, she realised, seemed dedicated solely to containing the forge’s immense energy. But even with such precautions, the chamber’s temperature was rising rapidly. Despite her resistances, Scarlett could feel the oppressive heat building around her.

“Be a dear and hand me that primordial elemental essence, won’t you?” Mistress called over her shoulder, her fingers dancing nimbly across the Crucible’s controls, not sparing Scarlett a glance.

Scarlett produced the [Sacred Flame (Legendary)], its core glaring with a white-hot radiance. As she held it, the artifact lifted of its own accord, drifting across the room to hover near Mistress. Down on the floor, the Emberling fixed its unblinking eyes on the [Sacred Flame].

Mistress’ hands moved in a blur, one manipulating a beating crystal embedded in the forge while her other hand clutched her staff, its azure-tipped gem flashing. With a single motion, she conjured a stream of ochre-red dust from a rune-covered chest nearby. The dust floated, swirling in the air, before settling around the Emberling in the form of a complex arcane pattern.

“Back in the day, this is where you’d have some cleric of whichever deity you’re choosing to bother channel the binding through the essence,” Mistress remarked casually as the [Sacred Flame]’s fire intensified. “But we’ll dispense with the formalities. It was always more pageantry than necessity.”

The Crucible’s interior had transformed into a vortex of energy, the various materials melding and transmuting within. Mistress tapped her staff against the stone floor, and the [Sacred Flame] surged forward, plunging into the heart of the swirling maelstrom.

The forge blazed. In a heartbeat, its inner flames flared to an unbearable brilliance before being consumed by the [Sacred Flame], which expanded to fill the Crucible. Waves of colour danced within, their intensity growing as the chamber’s heat reached dangerous levels. The very air seemed to vibrate as the contained power strained against the Crucible’s wards, and Scarlett was forced to channel her pyrokinesis just to hold her ground. Mistress, on the other hand, appeared unmoved by the inferno.

“Now it’s your turn,” the woman’s voice cut through the heat. At her words, the runes encircling the Emberling ignited, and the creature’s form sharpened, its body becoming more distinct as it rose into the air. Seemingly unperturbed, it simply stared into the Crucible.

Scarlett observed as Mistress’ magic guided the Emberling into the forge. The pseudo-spirit was drawn towards the all-consuming fire, vanishing into the burning depth like a moth to a flame. No immediate reaction followed, but Scarlett knew there was more.

Mistress placed a hand on the Crucible’s surface, causing a gleaming barrier to slide into place, sealing the forge. The chamber remained agonisingly hot, but at least the inferno was temporarily contained.

Turning to Scarlett, Mistress met her gaze through her marble mask, her ruby eyes seeming to glow. “I assume you’ve brought a suitable anchor?”

Scarlett raised an eyebrow at her.

“Don’t tell me you expect me to provide that as well,” Mistress said, a note of exasperation creeping into her voice.

After a pause, Scarlett reached into her [Pouch of Holding]. She withdrew the [Tiara of Lost Benediction]. While she was reluctant to part with her only other Legendary-tier item, she couldn’t deny that this seemed an appropriate use for the artifact.

Mistress extended her hand, and the tiara lifted from Scarlett’s fingers, floating gracefully through the air. She plucked it deftly from its trajectory, examining the tiara with a critical eye. “I suppose this will do,” she muttered, moving to a section of the Crucible where the runes were conspicuously absent, replaced instead by an array of glinting crystals. With a quick touch, a portion of the metal surface morphed, creating a recess that fit the tiara perfectly. As the artifact settled into place, the compartment sealed.

Mistress released her staff and began gingerly regulating the crystals, which flared to life in a dazzling display of chromatic light. Even Scarlett, who was terrible at sensing mana, felt the overwhelming surge of power emanating from the woman as the forge thrummed with newfound energy.

The temperature started rising again, and Scarlett was soon forced to retreat out of the chamber entirely to save her mana, continuing to watch from the relative safety of the main chamber. From there, she could see Mistress performing the Rite of Primal Harmonisation — though it didn’t look much like a ‘rite’ at all, to be honest. Still, Scarlett understood some of the theoretical underpinnings involved.

The process included binding the essence of a spirit or something similar—such as the Emberling—to a primordial essence, stabilising the essence’s existence in the Material Realm. Usually, such things were only ever partially present here.

Minutes passed as Mistress performed her work. Eventually, the runes on the Empyreal Crucible began to flicker and faded, signaling the rite’s nearing completion. The woman manipulated the controls, and the Crucible’s main compartment reopened, revealing an empty interior still brimming with the residual energy from the conflagration that had burned within.

Mistress reached inside, pulling out a single object. It resembled a circlet, its surface blackened with a char-like, obsidian substance. Scarlett steeled herself, channeling just enough of her pyrokinesis to keep the oppressive heat at bay as she re-entered the sweltering room. Mistress turned towards her, holding out the charred artifact. “There you have it. One Rite of Primal Harmonisation performed. You better be grateful.”

Scarlett eyed the darkened circlet, frowning in mild distaste.

Noticing her hesitation, Mistress glanced down, then clicked her tongue. She snapped her fingers, and the blackened crust crumbled away like ash, revealing the true form beneath: a slender band of pale white metal, just large enough to fit on the head but deceptively modest in appearance.

“There. Happy?” the woman asked, extending it towards her again.

[Crown of Flame’s Benediction (Unique)]
{Born through ancient forgotten rites, this crown harbors the unified essence of sacred and elemental flames, its true power waiting to be discovered}

Scarlett studied it closely. She had honestly hoped for a Divine-tier item, but there were occasions when Unique-tier artifacts rivaled their divine counterparts. Given the extraordinary materials and process used in its creation, she had no doubt this circlet outclassed anything she had at the moment, including her sacrificed [Tiara of Lost Benediction].

It also boasted a far less ostentatious—and embarrassing—look.

Scarlett reached for the circlet, surprised by its cool touch, a stark contrast to the heat clinging to the chamber. Her fingers brushed over its edges as she carefully reached out with her senses towards the newly forged artifact, trying to establish a connection. It felt similar to when she had used the [Tiara of Lost Benediction], but slightly different.

Her brow creased in concentration as she began to probe the circlet’s latent power. At first, faint red runes flickered to life along its circumference, casting a soft glow across her skin. Scarlett’s eyebrows lifted as a sudden wave of mental clarity swept through her, dispelling some of the fatigue and the dull headache that had plagued her throughout the evening. It was like inhaling fresh air after being stuck inside for too long.

That was a nice surprise. The circlet had retained—possibly even enhanced—the stat-boosting properties of the [Tiara of Lost Benediction].

Pushing further, the runes ignited brighter. The air glimmered as the Emberling materialised on the ground between her and Mistress, its fiery, fox-like form unchanged from before.

“Ah, what a pity,” Mistress sighed, her voice laced with genuine disappointment. “All that delectable essence, gone to waste.”

Scarlett ignored her, focusing intently on the artifact. She could tell there was more to it. Maybe part of that intuition came from the legacy, but she was pretty confident she knew how to draw the circlet’s potential out.

She extended her free hand and conjured a flame, a small orb of fire hovering just above her palm. The Emberling’s eyes immediately locked onto it. Focusing on the circlet, Scarlett felt the runes pulse in response. Suddenly, tiny ethereal flames erupted around the circlet, wreathing it in a mesmerising dance of flames that floated harmlessly over Scarlett’s palm where they touched it.

The fire in her other hand, meanwhile, flared unpredictably, and before she could react, it singed her skin. She blinked, instinctively dispelling the flame. For a moment, she stared at her hand. Given her high fire resistance, that was unexpected with such a weak flame.

Her eyes narrowed in thought. For some reason, she was pretty sure there were even more surprises in store.

Trusting her instincts, Scarlett conjured several smaller flames in the air around her. She held out the circlet, watching as the ethereal fires licking its surface grew more potent. The flames she’d conjured drifted towards it, absorbed into the artifact’s cold metal.

Traces of a warm, invigorating energy suffused her body, and she observed with growing fascination as the singed skin on her hand began to heal. The minor burn vanished, her hand returning to its unmarred state.

But that wasn’t all.

Scarlett clenched her fist, sensing a subtle but distinct surge in physical strength. It was far from overwhelming, but it was noticeable.

Some form of fire-fueled body enhancement magic, then? That was…interesting, to say the least. She was familiar with mana-based skills that could produce similar effects in the game, but using fire as the source? That was a first.

A faint smile tugged at her lips as she flexed her fingers, testing the newfound strength. Could this be applied defensively as well? What were its limits? While she doubted it could bring her to the level of individuals like Fynn or Leon, this power could help mitigate her long-standing physical weakness.

When she had more mana to spare, she would need to explore this in more depth.

Returning her attention to the circlet itself, Scarlett wondered if that was all. From what she could tell, though, there was still something more stirring within the artifact, as if it was asking to borrow more of her energy. Narrowing her focus, she reached deeper into the circlet’s power. In response, the flames coiling around it exploded outward, enveloping the entire circlet until it had transformed into a crown of pure, radiant fire resting in her palm.

Scarlett’s eyes widened as she felt the artifact begin to greedily drain her mana at an alarming rate. Realising the danger, she acted swiftly, using her [Charms of Expeditious Change] to remove it and cancel the effect before it could deplete her reserves entirely. The flaming crown disappeared, leaving her slightly winded, staring at the now empty space in her hand.

“Careful now,” Mistress’ amused voice broke through the silence. “It’s always wise to exercise caution when playing with unfamiliar artifacts. Especially ones this potent.” She tapped a finger against her marble mask. “This mask and my staff were also forged through the Rite, and even I faced some challenges at first.” She tilted her head slightly, the smirk audible in her voice. “Well, that’s not entirely true. But at your level, I imagine it would’ve been quite the ordeal.”

Scarlett’s eyes moved from Mistress’ mask to the staff, which remained standing upright on its own. She hadn’t realised both were products of the Rite. If she remembered correctly, the staff was classified as Divine-tier. She wondered what made her circlet different. Was it actually weaker, or were the classifications more arbitrary than she thought? She supposed it depended on whatever mechanism the system used to determine these things.

She turned back to Mistress. “Then did you—” she began, but her question was cut short by a thunderous crash from behind.

Mistress’ lips curved into an expectant smile. “Well, well. It seems my other guests have finally arrived. A bit tardy, but who am I to complain?”

Before Scarlett could process the words, she sensed a surge of sinister energy rushing towards them. Mistress raised her hand, conjuring a shimmering barrier of light just as a writhing mass of dark-green energy, streaked with ominous crimson, slammed into it. The impact sent shockwaves through the chamber, gouging deep furrows in the stone floor.

“Always the same dramatic entrance,” Mistress remarked, her tone dripping with sarcasm. “One would think she’d tire of it eventually. This place doesn’t just repair itself, you know.”

Scarlett turned towards the source of the attack. Back in the main chamber, a group of figures had emerged from the arch-like gateway Mistress had conjured earlier. One of the figures stood out immediately — cloaked in dark robes, with wild silver hair and piercing, eerie green eyes that seemed to cut straight through her.

Malachi.

The woman was flanked by an assortment of demons, their presence filling the space with a thick, noxious miasma that seemed to corrode the very air.

Malachi’s hand, still swirling with corrupted gloomy energy, lowered as she strode forward, her face contorted in barely contained fury. She stopped just at the threshold of the chamber they were in, her burning gaze fixing upon Scarlett.

“You,” she said bluntly.

Scarlett’s expression remained impassive, though her brow furrowed slightly. "It has been some time, Malachi,” she replied coolly. “I cannot say that I appreciate being attacked upon first sighting.”

The half-demon clicked her tongue, the sound unnervingly sharp, carrying a weight that threatened to send a shiver down one’s spine. Scarlett wasn’t particularly adept at reading these things, but it was obvious Malachi had grown more powerful since their last encounter. The stolen Authority from Anguish had clearly taken root.

“I was unaware you would be here,” Malachi said, turning her gaze towards Mistress with barely concealed irritation. “She was my target.”

“Oh my, someone’s in a foul mood,” Mistress replied airily, earning only a withering glare in response.

Scarlett glanced back at the masked woman, recalling her earlier claim that Malachi had moved past their old grievances. It appeared that had been an exaggeration — hardly surprising, if this was how Mistress acted.

“I presume you were the one who summoned Malachi here?” Scarlett asked.

She’d been wondering about that strange device Mistress had activated earlier. She wouldn’t have thought the woman had somehow modified it to allow a Vile—or at least a pseudo-Vile—to pop up so easily.

Mistress nodded, her tickled gaze shifting from Malachi to Scarlett. “Indeed, I was. And that, petal, means it’s time for you to make your exit. Now, shoo.” She waved Scarlett away dismissively.

“…What?”

“What games are you playing now, Mistress?” Malachi demanded.

“Oh, dozens, as always,” the masked woman replied flippantly. “But none that particularly require both of you here at the same time. Not anymore.” She continued waving Scarlett away as if trying to shoo a fly.

Scarlett stood firm, eyeing Mistress with thinly veiled annoyance. Eventually, Mistress stopped her motioning and sighed dramatically. “Ugh, fine. I’ll use words if I must.” She pointed at both Scarlett and Malachi. “I had intended for the three of us to have a pleasant little chat. A girl’s talk, if you would. But I really can’t be bothered anymore. I’ve performed far too many charitable deeds lately, and I have to draw the line somewhere, don’t I? You can thank old Thainnith for this, Baroness dearie, but if you want to parley with our quasi-Vile here, you’ll have to perform a blasphemous summoning ritual on your own time. So, now, shoo, shoo.”

Scarlett’s frown deepened as her eyes narrowed further.

“Come now, don’t give me that look,” Mistress said. “I just helped you fashion an artifact that would have half the empire’s nobility drooling with envy and the other half completely incapable of comprehending its worth. What more could you possibly ask of me?”

A low hiss escaped Malachi as the demons behind her bristled menacingly. “What’s the point of this charade, Mistress?”

“I’ll get to that, once our esteemed friend here has taken her exit,” Mistress replied, fixing Scarlett with an unsettlingly patient smile. “Feel free to leave the same way you came. I’m sure you won’t have any trouble figuring out how. And rest assured, I’ll wrap things up here before the conclave resumes.”

Scarlett’s gaze moved between Mistress and Malachi, studying the latter for a moment. What did Mistress have to discuss with Malachi that she’d initially wanted Scarlett privy to? There were plenty of possibilities, but she didn’t like not knowing for certain.

She was also frustrated at missing the chance for a proper conversation with Malachi herself. She’d been wanting to speak with the new Vile for some time now.

“Clock’s ticking,” Mistress added. “Dawdle too long, and I really will translocate you out of here myself. I can’t guarantee you won’t find yourself in a rather…compromising situation if that happens.”

Scarlett shot the woman one last glare before heading towards the chamber’s entrance. As she passed, Malachi’s intense green eyes followed her.

“I believe it would be beneficial if we spoke, when circumstances allow,” Scarlett told her.

Malachi’s gaze lingered on her before the woman replied, voice cold. “…We’ll see. If I deem you correct, I’ll contact you myself.”

Ignoring the hungry stares of Malachi’s demons, Scarlett continued to the far side of the underground chamber, where the armillary sphere she had used to get here stood waiting. She cast one final glance back at Mistress, who waved lazily through the chamber opening, before placing her hand on the sphere.

Drawing on the knowledge imparted by Thainnith’s legacy, she activated the complex mechanism, focusing on Mistress’ office in Dawnlight Palace. The image of the empty room flickered in her mind’s eye.

If the imperial family ever learned that Mistress had installed a device like this inside their palace, they’d probably be apoplectic. It represented a significant security breach, but then again, when it was Mistress in control, such things probably felt trivial.

As her surroundings shimmered and shifted, Scarlett found herself standing once more in the office of ‘Evelia Blackwood, Imperial Advisor’. She started to turn, ready to leave the place, but a thought made her pause.

She glanced back at the armillary sphere.

…Actually, there should still be some time before the conclave resumed, right? An opportunity like this didn’t come often. There was something she’d long been curious to investigate. It would have been impractical, if not impossible, to attempt on her own, but this artifact gave her options she typically didn’t have.

And after all, Mistress had said she could leave the way she came, but she never specified the destination.