[Realm: Álfheimr]

[Location: The Great Forest]

Puck realized the sudden absence first. Her eyes turned back to the branch where the Cheshire Cat had been lounging only moments ago.

"He's gone," she said quietly, more to herself than to Grimm. Her gaze lingered, wary. "Did he just decide we weren't interesting enough anymore?"

Grimm didn't answer .

The Deseruit Beast was still charging.

Its hooves—or what passed for them—chewed through the dead ground with brute force, fog tearing apart around its massive frame. Its squeals came out ragged, a sound that suggested its lungs were perhaps overworked.

"It seems," he began, "he leaves when he's said what he came to say."

Puck sighed. "Seems he just enjoyed being vague and buzzed off."

Grimm hummed in agreement as he raised one arm to the side. A fog beside him reacted immediately, black as ink. It twisted inward, compressing, its edges shuddering as though resisting the shape being forced upon it.

The fog solidified.

A blade emerged from it, forming from hilt to tip. Gray metal extended through the fog. The long blade bore a fuller running nearly its entire length, geometric patterns etched cleanly along both sides. The crossguard bloomed outward in a floral design, a gray and white surface. The grip was white and faceted, fitted perfectly to a gauntleted hand, and the pommel ended in a tight arrangement of white geometric shapes.

Grimm closed his fingers around it as though it had always been there.

"Whoa, nice sword." Puck murmured.

"I know." Grimm replied.

The boarlike Deseruit Beast roared as it closed the last distance, tusks lowered, four red eyes fixed on him with a vengeance. Its bulk surged forward—

And Grimm vanished.

There was no visible burst of speed or any dramatic flare. One instant he was there, the next he wasn't. The Deseruit Beast thundered past the space he'd occupied, still charging and still committed to the motion.

A heartbeat passed.

Two more steps carried the beast forward before it split. Its massive body separated grotesquely down the center, momentum carrying both halves forward for a fraction of a second before gravity reclaimed them. The wet sound of impact followed as the two sections collapsed into the dead earth.

Grimm stood several paces behind where it had been, blade held low.

He gave it a short glance.

"Hm," he said thoughtfully. "Denser musculature than expected. The reinforcement is uneven—overcompensating along the spine." He flicked his wrist sharply.

Blood slid cleanly from the blade in a thin line, vanishing into the fog before it could stain the ground.

Puck stared at the corpse, then at him. "You're pretty good with a sword, huh?"

"Naturally. I am me after all."

"You sound strangely boastful." Puck dryly noted

"There is no need for boasting when you have strength." Grimm stated.

She opened her mouth to say something but Grimm's attention shifted.

His head angled upward, just slightly.

"More there," he said.

Puck reacted instantly, floating back as shadows passed overhead, two massive shapes launched themselves downward. Salamander-like creatures with broad, leathery wings and red-scaled hides dove with screeching screams. One snapped its jaws wide, fangs bared, aiming straight for Grimm's head.

Grimm stepped aside leisurely, the creature's bite closed on empty air.

He continued by pivoting on his heel, driving his other into the creature's side. The impact twisted its trajectory just enough so that it slammed bodily into the second salamander mid-dive.

The collision was loud. Their wings tangled as scales cracked.

Grimm persisted.

He passed through them, his sword moving once in a clean cut. The gray blade sang softly as it passed through scale and bone alike.

Both creatures separated midair as they hit the ground in wet pieces.

"Seems they're content on attacking now for whatever reason," Grimm muttered, more to himself than to Puck. He tilted his head slightly, listening to approaching snarls. "Foolish, however. Charging blindly rarely ends well for creatures that still need their bodies intact."

Puck drifted closer beside him, hovering at shoulder height. Her pink eyes stayed fixed on the blade rather than the incoming threat.

"Well… feral Deseruit Beasts aren't exactly known for strategic brilliance, you know?" she murmured. "Instinct, hunger, territory, panic — that's usually the order of operations. Still…" She leaned slightly forward, gaze narrowing at the weapon. "That sword… I don't sense any mana from it at all. Not even residue. But it's definitely supernatural, right? And it's very odd looking. Not ugly though."

Grimm lifted the blade a few inches, angling it just slightly.

"A family heirloom, you could say," he said simply.

Puck tilted her head, expression sharpening with interest.

"Oh? Did you come from a family of warriors? You do kinda carry yourself like someone trained by people who expected you to survive very ugly things."

Grimm let out a quiet breath beneath his helmet.

"Hm. Not quite," he said after a moment. "The fool who took me in was a researcher. Brilliant, obsessive and socially unbearable. Seemed his predecessors were all elite warriors or whatever title they preferred to give themselves." His grip shifted slightly on the hilt. "He decided to take a different path. A more interesting one. Knowledge over conquest." A pause. "Though knowledge can grow dull quickly when you start seeing the same answers repeat."

Puck watched him carefully.

("Guess you're speaking from experience,") she thought quietly, drifting a little closer. ("But that sword…")

Grimm's voice cut into her thoughts.

"What that grinning cat said still interest me. Executioner and Knight." His tone lowered, thoughtful rather than concerned. "Does that mean anything to you?"

Puck shook her head slowly.

"Can't say it does. That cat felt like it was enjoying not being clear. Like it wanted us to sit with the words more than understand them."

"As is his nature," Grimm said, almost absentmindedly. "Hm. It may be best to keep what he said in mind."

His stance shifted slightly

"For now," he finished quietly, "we merely focus on them."

Right on cue, the growls sharpened into charging snarls.

The Deseruit Beasts stepped out of the tree line one by one. One seemed like a hyena, shoulders higher than its hind legs, jaw flexing constantly as strings of saliva stretched and snapped. Another padded forward like a mountain lion, but its front paws were oversized, claws sinking deep into the dead soil with each step. A third was long and lean like a wolf that had starved and then overgrown, ribs pressing against skin that rippled whenever it shifted direction. One heavy creature snorted and pawed the ground like a bull, but its breathing was fast, ready to bolt at any moment. Their ears twitched, noses flared, muscles coiled. Most had animalistic features, a whole group in total.

Puck drifted higher, eyes turning between them and Grimm.

The General adjusted his grip on the gray blade, shoulders loose.

The first Beast lunged without warning, the hyena-bodied one snapping straight for his throat. Grimm didn't step back. He shifted slightly to the side and the blade moved in a clean upward move, opening its chest from sternum to jaw. The Beast crashed past him, its bloodied form carrying two steps forward before its legs failed.

Before it even hit the ground, the lion-shaped one sprang from his blind side. Grimm pivoted on his heel, body turning smoothly as if he'd expected it seconds ago, and drove the blade forward into its open mouth. The strike was deep enough to end it instantly. He kicked the body off the blade and turned as the wolf-thin one darted low for his legs. Grimm simply stepped over it and brought the sword down through its spine mid-pass, the cut so clean the body slid apart as it skidded.

Three came together then, pack instinct taking over. The bull-bodied one charged straight, while two smaller, fox-lean predators tried to flank. Grimm moved forward instead of retreating, meeting the bull at the last possible second and sliding off its line of charge while drawing the blade across its neck. Blood erupted in a thick spray as it thundered past and collapsed.

One fox-beast leapt for his back. Grimm dipped his shoulder, letting it overshoot, then cut it out of the air in a single horizontal stroke. The last hesitated for half a second too long. Grimm closed the distance in two steps and ended it with a short thrust under the jaw.

The remaining Beasts circled now, pacing. Grimm walked toward them instead, sword held low. When one finally snapped and rushed him, he sidestepped and opened its side in one smooth motion. Another tried to flee. Grimm didn't chase fast; he simply closed distance efficiently and cut through its hind legs, then ended it cleanly before it could scream.

With that the clearing went quiet again.

Puck descended slowly, staring at the fallen bodies, then at him. "Nice."

"Hm, I grow bored with them. They aren't particularly interesting," Grimm muttered, staring at their bodies.

"Figures you say that. It didn't seem like these Deseruit Beasts could make use of the mana they consumed," Puck stated, folding her armored arms. "Still, the leader here might be strong."

"Let us hope it is interesting as well."

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