The cold wind pierced through Laws' heart, the chill biting deep as his thoughts raced in the space between life and death.
This is way too sudden…
Luffy... Nolda, I haven't even—
The forest viper's grotesque maw loomed ever closer, fangs mere inches from his face.
Then, it split apart.
Right there in midair—before his horrified, regretful gaze—it shattered into more than a dozen chunks, as if the very shape of death had been diced and discarded. Bits of the serpent rained down in front of him like scraps of kitchen refuse tossed toward a slop bucket.
At the same time, he felt a gust of wind brush past his cheek.
A faint afterimage shimmered in the air—a trail of light.
Hot blood sprayed from the viper's severed body, splashing across his face. Only then did the cries of shock erupt all around, spreading like a tidal wave through the forest clearing.
But Laws had no time to respond to the startled shouts. He turned instead toward the figure who had seemed to materialize from thin air beside him.
"Are you alright?!"
That voice—he'd heard it every few days for the past six months.
The wind hadn't come from the snowy trees, nor from the mountain slopes.
It had been carried here—wrapped around someone's blade.
"Papa!!"
Sylphy's panicked cry grew louder as she came rushing closer. Laws looked down at the utterly dead forest viper sprawled at his feet, then up at Allen's face, which was filled with urgency.
It took him a moment to come back to himself.
"…Thanks. That was a big help."
The adrenaline drained from his body all at once. A wave of weakness surged through him, and his legs nearly gave out—but Allen caught him before he could fall.
Allen examined him thoroughly, eyes scanning up and down until he was satisfied there were no injuries. Only then did he let out a breath of relief.
By now, Sylphy and Rudeus had come dashing through the snow to reach them.
Sylphy spotted the viper's corpse on the ground and immediately grasped what had happened. Her lips trembled, and in the next instant, she threw herself into Laws' arms—though even as she clung to her father, one hand reached out and grabbed hold of Allen's sleeve in a white-knuckled grip.
Laws, still rattled, gently patted her head to soothe her.
Allen watched this scene unfold with a soft exhale. Glancing down at the small hand clutching his sleeve, he couldn't help but smile faintly.
Good. I made it in time.
A moment later, Paul stepped into view with a flicker of movement, his expression grim.
"You okay?! Damn it—I was watching the other side and didn't notice in time…"
"It was close, but I'm fine."
Paul relaxed visibly, though his gaze lingered on the viper's remains. The way the creature was hacked apart made it look like ready-to-boil ingredients. He twitched at the sight.
"That [Longsword of Silence] of yours is getting sharper. That was fast."
"Just got lucky."
"But you reacted quicker than me. How'd you know?"
"I kept my senses active the whole time. Didn't you say there was a chance we'd run into magic beasts, Uncle?"
"You little brat… You think ahead, huh."
Allen chuckled as Sylphy twisted around to hug him instead. He exchanged an exasperated glance with Laws, and with Rudeus, who was standing nearby scratching his head.
...
Preparations for the hunt had taken five full days. The forest was thoroughly surrounded, and Allen had learned the details of the plan.
The idea was to divide the forest into netted zones and toss torches into the woods to rouse hibernating monsters. Then, hunters stationed behind the nets would take them down with bows. This method efficiently culled weaker monsters that bred rapidly and posed a threat to nearby crops and villagers.
As for higher-tier monsters like wild boars, their numbers were low, and their dark pelts stood out clearly in the snow—so early detection and retreat were always an option.
…Not that retreat was necessary.
After all, Allen the "Chef" had practically eaten all the boars in this forest.
It seemed like a good thing on the surface, but in truth, his appetite had eliminated one of the weaker monsters' main predators. According to Paul and Laws' estimates, their numbers would be thirty percent higher than last year.
A horde of weak monsters was more dangerous to farmland and villagers than a few powerful beasts.
So the net-laying had to be even more meticulous this year.
Five days later, snow began to fall again, and the villagers returned to their homes.
The day the snow stopped would be the day the purge began.
...
"Darling! You're home!"
"I missed you so much, Zenith~"
Paul, like an overexcited dog, tossed aside all his cool composure the moment he walked through the door. Rudeus and Allen simultaneously covered their faces in embarrassment as he ran to Zenith and pressed his cheek against her belly.
Zenith, long accustomed to this kind of flirting in front of the kids, simply smiled at Rudeus and Allen, then flicked Paul hard on the forehead.
"You missed me, huh? So why didn't you come back earlier?"
Paul grinned up at her sheepishly.
"The forest was far. And we went pretty deep this year. Laws nearly got himself killed—I had to stay and keep an eye on things."
"Alright, alright, time to eat~"
Lilia stepped out from the house at just the right moment, carrying trays of food. She gave a soft smile to Rudeus and Allen before setting the table.
Dinner was warm and comforting.
Though throughout the meal, Allen's gaze kept drifting toward Paul—who was being a little too handsy with Zenith—and then over to Lilia, who was pretending very hard to look at nothing in particular.
Allen smiled faintly, a look of ambiguous amusement on his lips.
...
The Greyrat house had terrible soundproofing.
Especially for a Water God Style swordsman who trained to hone all five senses.
Night One.
Paul and Zenith were flirting again. But in the dead of night, Allen heard a strange new sound—not moaning this time, but something more like… munching?
It didn't last long. Zenith seemed to tire quickly, and after a bit of teasing back and forth, the room went quiet.
Half an hour later, the sound of a door opening.
Paul, heading out. A long bathroom trip.
...
Night Two.
Same midnight snack noises. Zenith seemed eager this time—trying to please him, maybe—but it still ended quickly.
Again, Paul left once Zenith fell asleep.
This time, he even took a hot bath.
...
Night Three.
The winter nights in Buena Village were especially quiet. Even the sound of snow brushing against the windows was clearly audible.
The same strange pattern repeated again.
This time, Allen heard the rustle of curtains being drawn. Maybe Paul was getting restless—perhaps the snow would stop soon, and he could blow off steam hunting magic beasts.
The snow didn't stop.
It kept falling for a week.
And then, naturally, things spiraled out of control.
Night Four onward, Allen began noticing something strange: whenever he stepped out late at night, he would see Lilia wrapped in her robe, heating water in the kitchen… before returning to her room to bathe.
As if her room were particularly cold in the winter.
And each night, the sound of a door opening came from next door.
Until, finally, on the seventh night—
After the door creaked open, there were no footsteps.
Allen, lying in bed, caught faint murmurs filtering through the wall.
Too soft to make out clearly—broken whispers. Even for someone of his Water God Saint-tier senses, the words were almost impossible to distinguish.
But there was no doubt.
This was not the sound of a sleeping Zenith talking in her dreams.
Allen rose from bed and opened his door silently, stepping into the hallway without a sound.
He pinpointed the source.
The maid's room. At the end of the second floor.
"…You've really been holding back, haven't you?"
"…Don't talk nonsense—I haven't."
"Oh really?"
"Aah—no… I haven't…"
"Do you like it?"
"…"
The quiet rhythm of a bed creaking, unmistakable.
"Ahh… yes… I like it."