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After another turn of the roulette wheel, Alaria felt a part of her memories rapidly fading away. She already didn't remember parts of her life, how she ended up here, and the magic of the villain only exacerbated this. The path of the sword, all the years of pain and suffering, the grueling training, their fruits were being forgotten one after another. All at the behest of the vile jester who controlled this place. Here's your "second chance," granted by Miss Cosmos, which was worse than death. Here's the favor of the goddess of luck. Where are those powers now? A faint hope flickered that they were somewhere in the depths of her consciousness. A weak hope. The Tanarsian would probably do anything to regain these memories, which had now become so elusive. To regain something that defined her essence. But she understood that now she was practically defenseless. If the deadly game of Melesar didn't kill her, then the desert would certainly do it.