[Realm: Álfheimr]
[Location: Outskirts]
There were only stragglers left.
Most of the intelligent Deseruit Beasts were smart enough to either vanish into the forest's hollows, or they were already dead—cleaved to pieces or simply broken beyond recognition. And lucky for them, Grimm wasn't about to bother looking for the ones that had chosen to hide. He didn't hunt for sport. Nor did he stalk for satisfaction.
The General assumed they were smart enough to know fear.
The rest were not as lucky.
The rest were not as smart.
Some had thrown themselves at him in blind animal rage, and Grimm had slaughtered the lot of them without a care. Puck couldn't see his face behind that helmet, but if she had to guess, she'd wager he wore the dullest look imaginable—one of those expressions so empty it made his actions feel even more unnatural.
It made his brutality feel as though it had never been personal.
Grimm was a simple man and a complicated one, she gathered as much.
