Before I realized it, the battles around us had all ended. The air was heavy with exhaustion and silence. Bodies littered the ground—some collapsed outright, others sat slumped against the earth, their weapons fallen from their hands, and a few remained upright but trembling, unable to muster the strength to move.
Every gaze, however battered or dim, was fixed in one direction. On me. On my battle.
Though their eyes could not follow my movements, nor comprehend the clash that had just taken place, still—they chose to watch. To see how it would end. To witness the judgment of Atem.
Off to the side, I caught a strange exchange unfolding.
Diablo's voice cut through the silence, sharp and dismissive.
"Get lost. You are in the way."
A woman's voice, sultry and bold despite the circumstances, followed.
"Ahh, Souei-sama… you're being mean!"
I turned my eyes. A red-haired paladin—an older beauty, her armor in tatters—was clinging to Souei's arm as if the battle had never happened. In the middle of a war, she sought comfort. Ridiculous.
Souei's expression was unchanging, though a trace of discomfort flickered in his eyes. He shoved her away with cold precision.
"I am terribly sorry, Atem-sama. I was interrogating her, but… I seem to have made a mistake in the adjustments. For some reason, things ended up like this…"
His tone remained respectful, but I could hear the irritation in his words. An interrogation, ending in this? I narrowed my gaze, struggling to comprehend how such a path had been reached. Even Solarys, Sovereign of Wisdom, offered no insight into the logic behind it.
I exhaled through my nose, low and sharp. "Souei… sometimes I wonder whether you or the people you break are more dangerous."
Before Souei could respond, another voice cut across.
"You! Stay away from Souei-sama!"
Souka's cry rang out, bold in sound if not in strength. Her body, however, betrayed her—she was trembling, unable to rise from the ground. The effort of speaking seemed to drain her further.
I let my gaze sweep across the battlefield. Gobta and Gabil lay sprawled out nearby, groaning softly. Souei's shadow subordinates were equally spent, bodies collapsed like broken puppets.
Beside them stood Hakurou, silent as a blade unsheathed. His sigh carried across the battlefield like judgment.
"All of you need to be retrained."
The words were a blade sharper than any sword. Gobta and the others, already battered, groaned once more before collapsing fully, their morale shattered alongside their bodies.
My eyes shifted. Paladins lay broken beside them, equally defeated. Their armor was cracked, their pride reduced to fragments. The battle had clearly been fierce.
Still, Hakurou did not look satisfied. His eyes burned as though their struggle was not enough to warrant acknowledgment. Yet even I had to admit—they had endured against overwhelming odds.
A trio of voices grumbled from the ground.
"I was tricked-ssu! To face the strongest, that's too harsh-ssu!"
"A tie against a hobgoblin…? Then I'm not good enough either…"
"No way… I gave everything! And still, why!?"
Their words fell into the air like bitter rain, lamentations born of shattered pride. I did not bother to reply—condolences were not in my nature.
Instead, my attention was drawn to the most miserable of them all. The paladins who had faced Ranga and Shion.
What remained of them was a pitiful sight. Their armor was torn, their dignity stripped away, their bodies reduced to little more than trembling shells. From what I could see, eight of them were so battered they had been left in nothing but their undergarments, their weapons long abandoned.
And then, as if proud of a hunt well executed, Ranga emerged. His massive form loomed through the haze, his tail wagging cheerfully, his jaws carefully carrying several of the battered paladins. He padded toward me with a wolfish grin, lowering his cargo at my feet like an offering.
"My master!" Ranga's voice carried with excitement. "These people were the most suitable to test my condition after evolving!"
His tone was so earnest, his tail swaying with such enthusiasm, that I narrowed my eyes at him.
I had told him not to go overboard. Yet here they were, broken shells of warriors, barely conscious. At least he had not killed them. A thin thread of restraint—if such a thing could be called restraint at all.
"O-oh… That's… great," I replied, my tone flat, unreadable.
Ranga's ears perked, his tail wagging even harder.
"Yessir! Could I play with them some more?"
I raised a hand, my voice sharp, cutting.
"No. Stop, for now. Those people are finished."
Ranga lowered his head slightly, a low whine in his throat.
"Is that so. Understood."
The battlefield was silent again. Only the sounds of labored breathing, broken bodies shifting against the ground, and the crackle of distant energy filled the void.
He must not have played enough, for Ranga's tail drooped low like a scolded child. My words, however, had eased the fear lingering in the air. I could hear the battered paladins exhale in relief, as if my presence alone had spared them from their executioner.
The way their eyes clung to me, filled with gratitude, made me pause for a moment. Did they truly believe I was their savior? It was almost pathetic. These were supposed to be holy knights—defenders of humanity. Yet here they lay at my wolf's feet, grateful just to breathe another moment.
Pathetic.
But Ranga was not the true problem. My gaze shifted, sharp and unrelenting, to where Shion stood proudly. Her opponents lay sprawled on the ground, twitching feebly, their limbs grotesquely absent.
A quiet, annoyed breath escaped me. I already knew the answer before I asked, but my voice cut through the silence like a blade.
"…Shion. What did you do to them?"
She puffed her chest out, her greatsword resting lazily across her shoulders, her expression shining with pride.
"Yessir! Thank you for your praise! These vermin were arrogant enough to raise their blades against you, Atem-sama. So I… disciplined them."
I narrowed my eyes, my aura pressing down like the weight of a storm.
"I wasn't praising you. Don't twist my words."
Her triumphant smirk faltered just slightly, but she didn't break her stance.
I stepped closer, the air crackling with my suppressed power.
"I told you—do your best. I told you—not to kill. And what do I see before me? Limbless men and hollow shells of warriors. You dare call this discipline?"
Shion's ears twitched nervously. "B-but Atem-sama! They're alive. Isn't that enough?"
"No." My tone was colder than steel. "Alive but broken is still failure. What use are protectors of men when they cannot even wield their own arms? You've stripped them of their worth. That is not my order. That is your selfish cruelty."
Her eyes widened, and for the first time, she seemed uncertain.
"Atem-sama…"
I was about to continue, to lay judgment on her disobedience, when she suddenly blurted—
"Oops, I forgot! You may rejoice, and thank Atem-sama for his mercy!"
Before I could respond, Shion hastily dragged the mutilated paladins together in a heap. With a single sweep of her massive blade, energy crackled and washed over them. Then, like some twisted spectacle, she pulled out full potions and splashed them over their bodies.
The sight that followed was grotesque and mesmerizing all at once. Bone cracked. Flesh stretched. Hands and legs grew back in an unnatural rush, like something clawing its way out of the abyss.
In the blink of an eye, the paladins had limbs again.
The paladins, stunned and pale, now gazed at their own restored bodies in disbelief before bursting into relieved laughter, congratulating one another as if they had been reborn. Their joy was almost pitiful, considering what they had just endured.
Shion looked up at me, beaming like an eager child awaiting approval.
"Well? Atem-sama, I did as you commanded. They're fine now!"
I stared at her for a long, suffocating moment. Then I finally spoke.
"You obeyed me only after disobeying. You turned my command into chaos, and then tried to cover it with theatrics."
Her smile froze.
"Next time, Shion," my voice dropped lower, carrying the weight of judgment, "you will listen the first time. Or ..."
Her proud expression collapsed into seriousness, and she bowed her head.
"…Y-yes, Atem-sama. I understand."
The ground was quiet, save for the groans of the recovering paladins.
I exhaled slowly, sweeping my gaze over the battlefield. Even now, the sight of their hollow eyes lingered in my mind. It wasn't just Shion's recklessness that troubled me—it was the reminder of how fragile mortals truly were when thrown against the storm that was Eterna.
I resolved silently: Next time, I would not leave her unchecked. If Shion lost herself again, her blade might destroy more than just her enemies.
For now, the paladins were alive. That was enough.
But this was far from over.