A moment later.
As Lloyd observed the female knight before him—bowing respectfully, behaving with impeccable obedience, almost submissive—his expression turned subtly complicated.
When Miquella had asked him to help "adjust" and "guide" Leda, Lloyd had expected it to be troublesome, even prepared to resort to unconventional methods if necessary.
After all, he'd heard plenty about her—especially from Seluvis and Trina, who had repeatedly described Leda's derangement in great detail. It was hard not to imagine her as a hopeless case, someone whose mind was long past saving. Reforming her shouldn't have been easy.
But in the end—forget reform—after he explained the situation and presented Miquella's Sacred Seal, the once-proud Golden Lioness had turned into a quiet, obedient kitten that didn't even dare to breathe too loudly.
Even after Lloyd dispelled the charm that lingered on her, Leda didn't bare her fangs. If anything, she became even more docile.
Whether he teased her, had her serve tea, or even did small, invasive things like pinching her cheek or scratching under her chin, she showed no resistance at all. There wasn't the slightest sign of the "madness" Miquella had warned him about.
As for the reason...
"No matter how extreme she is, could she ever outdo you?"
Elizabeth's voice came dryly from the side.
"Everyone calls her extreme, but that's only in the context of the Haligtree. In the Lands Between, she wouldn't even make the top ten. Compared to you, it's like a firefly trying to compete with the sun. The number of people she's killed in her entire life probably doesn't even match what you do in a day."
"And besides," Elizabeth continued, "you saved her faith. After that, she willingly handed over her care and discipline to you..."
It was like a golden retriever that used to bare its teeth at its owner suddenly being dropped into a zoo full of predators.
Even if Lloyd did nothing, just standing there was enough—his sheer presence, the weight of his countless soul rings—would make Leda too ashamed to raise her head.
As for snapping at others or questioning their loyalty?
Well, her so-called madness had mostly existed to counterbalance Miquella's suffocating kindness. She wasn't truly insane. And with Lloyd's current entourage...
On his left, Frenzied Flame. On his right, the Formless Mother. Expanding outward: the Goddess of Rot, the young Lord of Night, and at minimum, the little purple blossom he'd nurtured into a half-divine being.
Who would she dare bare her fangs at?
All things considered, Lloyd didn't need to lift a finger. Leda had become meek and compliant all on her own.
Realizing this, Lloyd looked down at her—half-kneeling in front of him, wearing a maid outfit he'd made her put on to test her obedience, her face burning with embarrassment as she endured the head-patting—and clicked his tongue twice.
"Why don't you resist a little?"
"Like this, it just feels like I'm bullying you."
Leda's body trembled slightly, but she said nothing and didn't resist in the slightest.
Truth be told, after witnessing Lloyd and Elizabeth "playing" earlier, she had been terrified when Lloyd produced the Sacred Seal and told her to obey. She had imagined countless dreadful possibilities.
Now, though the feather-light maid outfit made her uncomfortable and deeply ashamed—it was the first time anyone had dared treat her this way, patting her head and pinching her cheeks—still, it was far better than what she had feared.
And for some reason... she didn't entirely dislike the feeling.
"Because you crave to be loved."
A soft, motherly voice whispered in her ear.
"I don't know what kind of past you've had or what you've been through, but I can see it—you've always been a child starved of love."
"Why did you follow that 'gentle' Empyrean? Why was Mohg deceived by that child too? The reason is simple—you both felt something from that child: the illusion of being loved."
"Even if that love was false, even if it was a lie... for those who've never known love, it was still beautiful enough to drown in."
"Why were you so extreme? Was it really for the Haligtree? If it was, then why did everyone come to hate you for it?"
A pair of small hands reached from behind, cupping Leda's delicate face.
With a slow, deliberate motion, sharp nails traced along her skin—cutting it open. Blood welled up and flowed down her cheek.
Pain.
That was her first reaction.
But before she could cry out, that pain shifted—turning strangely warm, almost tender.
It felt as though... she were being held by a mother.
Leda's thoughts blurred, her body frozen in place, unable—or unwilling—to resist.
And again, that soft voice spoke.
"The reason you worked so hard wasn't for the Haligtree, nor because you shared that boy's ideals. It was simply because you longed for his attention, yearned for his acknowledgment—or rather..."
"You longed to be loved."
A soft chuckle followed.
Her fingers continued to glide, and more wounds began to appear across Leda's skin.
"But the funny thing is—even that child knew his tenderness was false, and yet you believed it completely. You kept struggling to grasp the reflection of the moon in the water. The harder you tried, the farther it drifted. And in the end, others—even that very moonlight—called you mad."
"Pitiful, isn't it?"
As those words faded, the hands moved up toward her eyes. The nails lengthened, inching closer and closer to her dazed gaze.
Then—
Thud!
"Ah—why did you hit me!?"
Before the nails could pierce her eyes, Elizabeth was sent reeling, Lloyd's fist buried in her stomach. Her hands snapped back.
Holding Leda—her face shredded and bleeding—Lloyd cast a healing spell while glaring coldly at Elizabeth.
"Miquella asked me to take care of her, not kill her."
"And you told me she just seemed a bit love-starved, so you wanted to 'show her love.' You didn't mention taking it this far."
"But this is how I show love," Elizabeth said matter-of-factly, clutching her stomach. She spat up blood—and what looked like fragments of her insides—before lifting her head defiantly.
"Besides, she didn't exactly seem to hate it. That proves she really is desperate for affection."
She paused, noticing Lloyd's eyes narrowing, and her voice softened.
"...And it's not like I was going to kill her. You can heal her anyway, can't you?"
"But I don't think that's the kind of 'love' she wants."
Lloyd sighed and lowered his gaze.
In his arms, Leda—finally realizing what had just happened—trembled like a frightened rabbit. Her fingers brushed her cheek, coming away slick with blood. The pain burned like her skin had been flayed. She remembered the razor-sharp nails that had hovered barely a hair's width from her eyes.
Terror filled her expression. Her whole body shuddered—not just from the pain, but from the words Elizabeth had spoken.
"Alright, alright, don't be afraid," Lloyd muttered. "If she lays a hand on you again, I won't hit her."
"...Shouldn't that be the other way around?" Elizabeth quipped weakly.
"For others, maybe. Not for you."
Lloyd shot her an unamused glance.
"Don't think I didn't notice—you're just hoping I'll hit you again."
Elizabeth clicked her tongue, then her expression sobered.
"But seriously, I wasn't joking earlier. This girl's worse off than I thought. I expected to just leave a few cuts on her face, but I didn't expect it to go that far..."
"You're right. Do you know why?"
Ignoring Elizabeth, Lloyd looked back down at Leda, his tone softening.
"Don't be afraid. I'll heal you completely. You won't even have scars."
His hand brushed gently across her bloodied face, healing the torn flesh little by little until her skin was smooth again. He held her close for a moment longer, offering quiet comfort, then gave her back a gentle pat.
"Alright. Go wash your face. We'll be seeing people soon."
Reassured by his voice, Leda gradually calmed down. When he gave the instruction, she nodded faintly and went to wash.
But as she rinsed the blood from her face with warm water, that same gentle voice whispered behind her once again.
"Don't be afraid, child. If you don't want me to, I won't touch you."
Elizabeth's hand rested lightly on her back.
"This truly is how I love you. And I know you can feel that... can't you?"
"Pain and wounds aren't always bad things. They make people see clearly. They make you aware of what you truly desire—and they can fill the emptiness inside."
"If you truly dislike it, I won't force you. But I think you, of all people, can understand what it's really for."
She hooked a finger around a lock of Leda's golden hair and smiled softly.
"Finish washing your face. Don't keep him waiting."
Then Elizabeth vanished.
Left alone, Leda stood still for a long moment. When she finally confirmed that Elizabeth was truly gone, her body slowly relaxed, though her heart still trembled with lingering fear.
Maybe it was that fear—or perhaps her newly healed skin was too tender—or maybe something else entirely.
Either way, as she washed, her hand slipped. The edge of her nail reopened a shallow cut across her cheek.
Blood welled up again.
She stared down at the crimson drops falling into the basin, feeling the sting spread through her face.
For some reason, she went still, lost in thought.
Then—
"How did you manage to cut yourself again? Try to be more careful..."
Grumbling under his breath, Lloyd cast another healing spell, closing the wound.
Leda touched her face again—the smooth, unblemished skin now flawless once more. Then she looked at Lloyd, whose exasperation couldn't quite hide his concern.
And for some reason, something strange stirred in her chest.
Strange... why did she feel...
Across the room, Elizabeth—watching Leda's expression change—froze for a moment before shaking her head slowly.
"Fine, that works too."
After all, she belonged to Lloyd now—if Lloyd was great, then by extension, she was great too.
Victory.
After settling things with Leda and returning her equipment, Lloyd followed her guidance to meet Miquella's followers once again.
Thanks to his inherently gentle nature—and the fact that Miquella's Great Rune was now in his possession—although the haze clouding the followers' minds hadn't fully dispersed, Lloyd had the ability to lift it anytime he wished... or even take full control.
Upon meeting them, he dispelled the enchantment on the spot. Then—
"Huh? I was under a charm?"
A certain Redmane Knight scratched her head, her face full of confusion and misplaced wisdom.
"No wonder I suddenly started liking studying... so that was Lady Miquella's influence all along?"
No, Lloyd thought, I'm pretty sure Miquella's enchantments weren't meant for that.
Still, as Freya spoke, an idea took shape in Lloyd's mind.
Wait. Maybe Miquella didn't intend her charm for this purpose... but it could work.
"Ansbach," Lloyd said, turning toward the old soldier beside him.
The veteran blinked. "Yes, Lord Tarnished?"
"What do you think about using charm abilities to start a tutoring class?"
Lloyd tilted his head slightly, adding, "Like charming slackers so they fall in love with studying—or people who hate working out so they suddenly love fitness."
Silence followed.
At first, Ansbach wanted to dismiss it outright. "That's impossible," he nearly said—but after thinking for a moment, he realized... it actually could work.
And he wasn't the only one thinking that. Leda's expression turned complicated, too.
Even Miquella himself had never—probably would never—think to use charm powers in such a ridiculous way.
But Freya, the famously fearless Redmane Knight, reacted very differently. Her eyes went wide with horror as she stumbled backward.
"No! Falling in love with studying? That's too terrifying—don't you dare use that on me!"
Freya would rather die covered in blood on the battlefield than wrestle with math problems in a classroom. That kind of fear was carved into her very soul.
Hearing this, Ansbach's face twisted slightly, as though recalling something traumatic. He spoke in an oddly cautious tone.
"My lord, I also advise against making Miss Freya fall in love with studying. Otherwise... well, some truly dreadful things might happen."
And he spoke from experience.
Since it was only a passing thought, Lloyd didn't press the matter. He nodded and moved on to check on the others.
The first was Moore—the heavily armored, simple-minded merchant who'd once told Lloyd to pay attention to the Gathering Beetles.
Even after his enchantment was lifted, the poor man didn't really understand what had happened. He just assumed Miquella had abandoned him and mumbled to himself,
"I don't know what to do..."
"Mother threw away her child. Mother doesn't love us."
"What happens to the child then? Is he... sad forever?"
It wasn't a strange sentiment, and Lloyd could more or less understand his meaning.
But just as Moore spoke, Alice arrived—coming to ask Lloyd about modifying a Great Rune. Hearing Moore's words, she paused briefly, her expression flickering.
"What's wrong?" Lloyd asked, noticing the shift.
Alice was quiet for a few seconds before shaking her head. "Nothing."
For some reason, though, she felt oddly insulted.
As Alice began her "extreme modification" of the Great Rune, Lloyd stayed to talk with Moore a bit longer, calming him down before suggesting,
"How about I find you some work? You'll meet plenty of new people that way."
When Moore agreed, Lloyd brought him to Messmer. After explaining the situation, Messmer immediately accepted him.
Not purely out of respect for Lloyd—Moore and his Gathering Beetles were genuinely useful. They were excellent at gathering supplies, relaying intelligence, and navigating corrupted terrain that others couldn't enter.
Efficient in both logistics and reconnaissance, they were valuable enough that Messmer would've taken him in even without Lloyd's request.
"A new companion... I'm glad. Thank you," Messmer said simply.
Overjoyed, Moore offered Lloyd his gratitude—and a gift.
[Acquired: Great Potmaster's Crafting Notes (1–12)]
As for crafting notes, Lloyd felt... nothing.
Or rather, even now, he still hadn't figured out what the crafting system was good for.
When he'd first unlocked it, he'd been excited—but that feeling hadn't lasted long.
This so-called crafting system isn't exactly useful. If it had any use at all, it wouldn't be completely useless...
Hm?
Lloyd suddenly noticed one of the notes.
[Great Jar Master's Crafting Notes 8]
[Unlocked Craftable Item: Giant Dung Pot]
His eyes lit up.
After crafting one, he stared at the massive pot before him—larger than a person and overflowing with foul-smelling, venom-like sludge—and nodded in satisfaction.
Good. For this "Super Deluxe Snack Bundle" alone, unlocking the crafting system had been worth it.
After settling Moore, Lloyd followed Leda's lead and met another of Miquella's followers—one he hadn't encountered before.
"That man's name is Dane," Leda explained. "He's served Lord Miquella far longer than I have. Meticulous by nature, and an exceptional warrior. Please don't misunderstand him. His refusal to speak with you isn't personal. I've known him for some time, and I've never heard him say a single word."
The moment she finished, Dane suddenly spoke.
"Tarnished One, thank you for aiding Lord Miquella."
Leda: "...What?"
After finishing his talk with Dane, explaining Miquella's current situation and instructing him to return to the Haligtree when possible, Lloyd turned toward Leda. After a brief silence, he spoke.
"Maybe he's not avoiding me... maybe he's avoiding you."
Silence.
After a moment, Leda turned away.
"Let's go find the Hornsent."
"Are you sure he'll be at the meeting spot?"
"I'm not sure," she admitted. "But we should check."
So, after blowing the Spectral Steed whistle, Lloyd followed Leda's direction and rode to the rendezvous point where he'd last spoken with the Hornsent.
He was still there.
"You—why are you doing this?"
The Hornsent's tone was cold and full of hostility. "Without Miquella's enchantment, do you think I'd still see you as allies?"
"I never considered you an ally," Lloyd said honestly. "I'm just curious—why did you follow Miquella in the first place? Even after the enchantment was gone, you still chose to stay loyal. Why?"
After a long pause, the Hornsent finally replied.
"As long as Miquella keeps his vow—to become a god, and to bring salvation to my people. To cast down Marika and the Erdtree from their thrones. That is all that matters."
"I see..." Lloyd nodded, then shook his head.
The Hornsent frowned. "What? You find fault with my beliefs?"
"No," Lloyd said calmly. "I just think salvation is something you should fight for yourselves. And honestly, I don't believe Miquella is your only hope."
He remembered the Black Knives' stories—the messy history between Marika and the Hornsent—and sighed.
"A long time ago, that 'village girl' wanted to help your people. But even now, when I visited Tower Town, you've changed nothing. Not one thing.
"I'm not here to judge you. I've done worse—far worse. But I believe that a race, a civilization, has to evolve with the times. Clinging to the past, refusing to move forward... that only leads to ruin."
He pulled out his Duel Disk, showing off the academy's newest technology.
"You've had countless chances for redemption. Even now, you still have one. But I doubt you—or any of your kind—would ever accept it."
The ones who could accept change had long since left the Hornsent behind.
The Great Jar Master who left his notes—that was the perfect example of someone who'd packed up and walked away.
As for the rest...
Lloyd activated the Duel Disk. Its lights flared to life, the magic engine whirring to full power.
"I'm not a killer. Or rather, I don't care whether those unrelated to me live or die.
"But if you insist on staying like this—refusing to change, refusing to adapt—"
He slid in a card. The Duel Disk blazed, engines roaring.
"Then let's see it for ourselves. Whether your 'tradition' is tougher...
"Or if the wheels of the new age hit harder."
BOOM.