Morning broke over the open fields. Cassia's group sat in a tight circle, chewing through their rations of hard bread and washing them down with lukewarm water. The silver-rank mage noticed Cassia standing apart, her eyes fixed on the distant silhouette of No Man's Land. She hadn't touched her food, so the mage gathered her courage and approached. "Lady Ghast, I noticed you haven't eaten yet. Is there something wrong?" the mage asked.
Cassia's gaze lingered on the forest for a long moment before she finally turned. Her eyes were weary and cold, a look so sharp the mage instinctively held her breath. "I don't feel like eating," Cassia said, her voice like a winter draft.
"O-of course," the mage replied quickly. "A-anyways… what's the plan once we enter No Man's Land, milady?" Cassia turned back toward the forest, falling into a silence so profound it made the mage shift her weight in unease. Finally, Cassia spoke. "We do what is asked. No more, no less."
The mage bowed low and quickly returned to the others.
Soon after, the group packed their gear and headed toward the treeline. They eventually reached the edge of the forest—and stopped. Cassia felt it first. A deep, chilling disturbance. It wasn't an oppressive aura or a violent pressure, but a profound emptiness that felt far more dangerous. The air itself seemed muted, as though sound had lost the will to travel forward.
The entire group felt it. Their feet rooted to the ground as doubt crept in, urging them to reconsider the mission. After a tense minute of hesitation, Cassia took the first step into the treacherous depths.
Her resolve acted as a tether. One by one, the others reluctantly followed her into the dark.
At the same time, miles away at the farm, Natsu stood shirtless in a newly cleared patch of land. He swung a backhoe with a steady, rhythmic grace, the steel biting deep into the dark soil. Around him, his shadow summons moved with surgical precision, tending to the fields with delicate accuracy.
"My lord, the group has entered the forest," a voice echoed within his mind. Natsu didn't break his stride.
"Thanks for letting me know," he replied silently. "Just continue observing them and tell me of any curious developments."
"It shall be done, my lord," the wraith answered, its presence fading from his mind as Natsu continued his work beneath the morning sun. Let's see what our interesting guests are up to, especially that one, Natsu murmured to himself as he returned to his labor.
He swung the backhoe with a steady rhythm, the thud of steel against earth punctuating the silent, efficient movements of the shadow servants working the rows around him.
While Natsu worked the fields, Death, Tanya, and Anyael relaxed on the cushioned wooden bench at the edge of the farm. They watched the familiar, domestic display of his duty, the sunlight catching the lean muscles of his back as he moved.
Tanya suddenly spoke, her voice breaking the comfortable silence. "Lady Death? Can I ask you something?" Death turned her head slightly, her ageless eyes reflecting the morning light. "What is it, Tanya dear?"
"This might seem sudden, but… do you happen to know what happened to the people who pursued us?" Tanya asked. Her voice was small, yet it carried a weight of resolve that seemed to momentarily still the air. "I do know, child," Death replied, her gaze sharpening as she studied the girl. "I am quite curious, though. Why do you want to know?"
"I know Natsu's been avoiding the topic ever since I woke up," Tanya said. "I guess I just want some closure regarding that incident." Beside her, Anyael remained silent, her gaze fixed on Natsu in the distance, but she listened with a sharp, hidden intensity.
Death regarded Tanya for a long moment, her expression unreadable. "If I tell you the truth," she asked gently, "what would you do?"
Tanya's breath caught. The question struck her with a physical weight. She looked at Natsu—the man who could summon a legion of nightmares, yet worked the earth with patient care—and felt the terrifying clarity of her own choice. She could remain in ignorance. Or she could see the blood on his hands and stay anyway.
"I'll live with it," Tanya said at last, her voice steady now, stripped of hesitation. "I'll still choose him—and the truth that comes with him. No matter how many times I have to."
Death searched her eyes, not for fear, but for understanding—and found it. "Very well," Death said, her voice lowering into a solemn, velvety register. "Then I will tell you what happened."
"The day you and Anyael were taken, Natsu followed the group that abducted you," Death said. She slipped her left hand under Tanya's right, gently grasping it in a rare gesture of physical comfort. "He saw everything. He watched them bring you back to their camp and heard the way they spoke of you. He listened as they detailed their intentions, and the loathing he felt in those moments was a cold, terrible thing."
Death paused, her gaze momentarily drifting to where Natsu worked in the distance. "There were developments even he didn't anticipate. You know what happened in the camp, but you were never told what followed after your escape." Tanya's eyes clouded as the memories of that day resurfaced, heavy and jagged.
"Yes… we were saved by someone we knew personally," she whispered. "Now that I look back, they never truly wanted to be involved with our pursuers. They were in a precarious situation that Anyael and I failed to understand at the time." She leaned into the warmth of Death's hand.
"Their duty and their values didn't align. They were forced to do something they hated, caught between an oath and their own conscience."
"I have witnessed how mortals live for a very long time," Death replied, her voice soft and resonant. "There are always outliers like the person you knew. Their hearts are often in the right place, but their loyalties force them into choices they will forever regret."
She looked at Tanya with a profound, ageless pity. "From there, they spiral into a life of nothing but remorse. The person you knew made that mistake once—and remained trapped in the orbit of a kingdom that views them as nothing more than a tool."
Tanya felt a sharp sting in her chest, a profound sympathy for the man who had betrayed them only to redeem himself through a selfless sacrifice. Despite the initial treachery, he had chosen their freedom over his own life, a final act of grace that had allowed them to flee.
Death watched the realization settle over the sisters, her expression solemn. "I commend your savior for doing the right thing, even at such a cost. But what followed was the inevitable consequence of crossing a being driven by a deep and terrifying kindness. I am not sure if you have realized the extent of Natsu's protectiveness, but he once invaded an entire realm of deities just to bring me back."
Tanya and Anyael exchanged a look, the weight of the revelation hitting them with the force of a freight train. A dark, cold understanding began to bloom in the silence between them as they considered the true nature of the man they loved.
"After you escaped, he massacred every single one of your captors," Death said, her voice dropping into a heavy, resonant register. "He left no one alive."
The air on the farm seemed to grow still, the usual sounds of the morning muffled by the gravity of her words. "That was the choice he made to ensure your safety," Death added, looking back toward the fields where Natsu moved with quiet grace.
"It is a choice he will never regret, but it is one that will haunt him forever."