DeathGod's maniacal laughter died away until the only sound was the faint hiss of settling dust. He surveyed the ruin with cold satisfaction. Balmount kingdom was gone—ruin absolute, silent, still. He let out a slow sigh and rubbed at his shadowy chin as if polishing a thought. "Well, that's a wrap, then. What to do… what to do…" His voice was casual, almost bored.
The smoke curled around his dissolving form as he turned. His features were calm, practiced: the sort of calm that belonged to someone who had already decided the world was an accessory. "Maybe I should go meet Mother personally… No," he grunted, irritation sharpening his tone. "She can wait. The person I should go see first is Pride." He spat the name like something bitter. "He must have grown stronger, and knowing him, he will become a thorn in my neck. Pride is not someone to toy with. The chains of the world…he is infuriating." His hands moved once, a lazy, dismissive gesture. "And then there is Wrath and Sloth; they, too, might join the fight. Or should I move to the Imperial Kingdom? They rot from the inside, and Greed likely already has his claws there. Ah, yes, the Imperial Kingdom might be useful. Argg, it is very hard when one must think."
He began to walk, the shadow trailing like an obedient cloak. His steps were measured, each one leaving a faint cold where it passed. He muttered under his breath, a private complaint no one could contradict. "It keeps on happening. No matter what I do, there is always something that blocks it. Did I take that path again? I cannot remember. Taking life is...exhausting, but first—" He stopped as if to decide the next trivial annoyance to address.
A scream tore through the quiet—so sudden and raw it seemed to rip at the air itself. "AAAHHHHHHHHHHHHHH!"
DeathGod's lips curved into a smile. He turned slowly back toward the central crater as if called by a pleasant song.
From the crater came a nightmare of broken flesh and jagged bone. Kibo clawed himself out on one ruined arm; half his face had been stripped away, bone visible beneath ragged, red muscle. The other arm was gone. His lower body had been taken, absent and grotesque, as if the void had simply reached down and seized it. He moved with a single, skeletal hand gouging at the ash, dragging himself forward on bloody sinew.
Pain made his one remaining eye a bright, furious point. Tears burned the raw tissue around it. He stared at the ruined silhouette of the town—Balmount had been erased—and something like desperation tore through him. "Ignis! IGNIS! IGNNNNNIIISSS!" His voice was a broken thing, half-sob, half-curse. He called out for Syl, then Lily, then Aunt Sora, each name a ragged prayer thrown against the void. Please…anyone… the thought shivered inside him like a trapped animal.
His Self-Healing fought like a tired soldier and was failing; the mana clung to him, patching, stalling, but it could not keep up. He was slipping toward nothing.
DeathGod walked forward with slow, deliberate amusement. His grin was clinical. "Ah… so you survived. I suspected you might." He crouched a little as if studying a curious insect. "It must be because of that dragon, protecting your soul from termination. But I wonder how your body is still…intact. What method did that dragon use?" He tapped a fingertip against his chin. His tone was all detached curiosity, but every movement carried the weight of someone who did not believe in mercy.
Kibo fixed his single, leaking eye on DeathGod. Pain hollowed his chest, but something like steel lived in the rawness of his voice. "I will kill you. I will kill you! I WILL KILL YOU!" The words were torn from him, ragged and earnest.
DeathGod's smile narrowed into something colder. "Huh? Who do you think you are?" There was mockery there, slow and tasting of contempt.
Kibo shouted again, the threat a desperate animal's promise. He tried to push himself up higher, but his body betrayed him. DeathGod's expression hardened only for a heartbeat. Then he moved—fast but controlled—and delivered a savage kick that sent Kibo slamming into stone. Pain exploded through the boy; he screamed, a single, raw sound that filled the crater.
Kibo screamed.
"Who do you think you are?" DeathGod snapped, then kicked him again, voice rising like a struck bell. "Do you think this is some kind of fairy tale? That you just miraculously survived because of one stupid dragon, and now you fancy yourself the main character of some story, you idiot?"
He drove his leg into Kibo's ruined face, hitting the damaged eye with brutal precision. The orb burst with a wet, sick sound. Kibo's scream was a jagged thing, a spine-breaking note of unendurable agony that echoed off the crater walls.
"Serves you right, you foolish human!" DeathGod barked, each word a hard stone. "Not even your weak grandpa could stop me. What makes you think you can? Are you a god? You are one worthless soul who only got a second chance at life. Do you think this is a play? This is the real world, and in the real world, things do not bend to your wishes!"
The constant, raw noise grated on him. He seized Kibo's skull with one hand and smashed the ruined face down into the ash and stone again and again, each impact a wet, grinding punctuation. "Shut up! Shut up!" he hissed, as if everything itself was too loud.
When he finally let go, he stepped back and forced himself to inhale slow. Do not be distracted by a worm, his expression said. He watched Kibo struggle, watched the boy's broken body work against pain to lift his head.
"Come on, lift your head," DeathGod urged, voice mocking and bright with cruelty, repeating the command like a game. "Do it, do it, do it, do it, do it."
Kibo hauled his head up with a ragged inhale. Blood and ash slicked his throat. His voice was a ruined croak, raw and small but burning with the same promise as before. "I will kill you."
DeathGod laughed, a sound without warmth. "You humans are so relentless." He paced a slow circle, looking at the wreckage as if searching for a lesson in it. "Tell me… look around you…oh wait, you cannot see." He let the mockery hang for a heartbeat, then went on, merciless. "How will you do that? Are you going to wait for your body to heal? By then I will have conquered the world and there will be no one left to oppose me. No one can kill me. No mortal, not the Sins, not my mother, not even any god can kill me." His voice dropped to a whisper that tasted like a challenge. "Well, except for the almighty, but who is asking?"
Kibo's screams had dissolved into ragged, frantic breaths; he could not focus on DeathGod's words through the fire in his face. Annoyance stiffened DeathGod's shoulders. He reached out and placed a hand on Kibo's mangled torso. The touch was cold and precise. The agony that had consumed Kibo vanished in an instant, replaced by a paralyzing numbness that pinned every muscle and shut the throat.
"How's that now? Feeling any pain?" DeathGod asked, amusement sharpening his tone.
Kibo lay frozen, a puppet whose strings had been cut then glued taut. He could not move and could not even shape his lips into words.
DeathGod shook his head as if at a disappointing toy. "If you cannot speak, then I will be off. I have conquering to do." He turned to leave, long strides swallowing the ruined ground.
A tiny, desperate whisper tugged at the edge of his departure. "I promise you… I will kill you."
DeathGod paused, the hint of a smile returning as he turned back to the boy. Up close his face was patient and very cold. "I did ask you before…how would you do that? What is the plan? Are you going to wait? Do you think the world revolves around you growing strong?"
Kibo's voice barely carried, a thread of sound through the numbness. "I will kill you," he whispered again.
DeathGod paused, considering with slow amusement. "Fine… this stubbornness you have. I would like to see you try." He extended a single shadowy finger toward Kibo's ruined skull, the motion deliberate, almost ceremonial. "I am going to enjoy torturing you."
The instant that finger brushed bone, the world answered with a sound like a vast bell struck under water — a low, hollow chord that rolled through the air and into ribs. The chord vibrated in the throat of the crater and then everything changed.
The total annihilation was undone as if memory itself had been pulled back into place. Thorn fell to the ground, gasping for air as if someone had ripped breath into him. Morganna gagged violently and vomited onto the stone, bile and dust mingling. Syl collapsed; unconscious at once. Sora's lungs burned; she began to hyperventilate, eyes wide and stunned as understanding clawed up her spine. They had died. Then they were alive again.
We… were dead, Sora thought, each heartbeat a small, scared thing. We were gone, and now— Her hands flew to shield the girls without thinking, because terror did not wait for thought.
Thorn staggered to his feet, fingers trembling. He scanned the ruined skyline as if expecting DeathGod to be there, triumphant, but the ruin itself was all that answered. Then his gaze fell on Kibo. The boy was kneeling, silent, wrapped in a cold halo of DeathGod's mana that dripped like shadow-fire.
What did he do to him? Is he possessed? Sora wondered, moving closer, the question bitter on her tongue.
The halo shivered and then dissipated like smoke. Kibo threw his head back and screamed, a sound that was part animal and part something torn from a tomb. "AAAAAHHHHH! GEETTTTTTT OOOOOUUUUTTTTT!" The scream was a command flung at an invisible tormentor.
He clawed at his scalp, tearing hair away by the handful, nails slick with blood, then began to slam his head against the stone in a maddened rhythm. Each collision rang with a wet finality until blood pooled beneath him. His body convulsed with the insistence of someone being unmade from within.
Thorn lunged, desperate to stop him, but a hand was already there. It settled on Kibo's head with an impossible gentleness that contradicted the ruin around them.
"You can rest now… Master," said the voice, low and calm.
Kibo went limp in that hand and collapsed into unconsciousness as if finally allowed to stop fighting. Thorn froze where he stood; Sora's shielded arms dropped slack at her sides. The newcomer's presence pressed against them — potent and suffocating, yet threaded through with a warm, light that made the dust look like embers.
Thorn stared, disbelief tearing his face. "No… it cannot be."
Morganna's face had changed all at once. Her glance latched onto the gold rings and the unsettling, easy smile. She spat the name. "THE SIN OF GREED!"
The man smiled in answer, and the aura around him deepened. He inclined his head the smallest fraction. "If you think I am merely the Sin of Greed, you are mistaken," he said, voice silk over steel. "I am Demon King Greed, appearing at your presence."
The pressure from him was overwhelming; every breath Thorn took felt measured by that weight. Instinct forced Sora to conjure a Glacial Veil, thin frost etching the air as a barrier to protect the girls.
"Demon King… How?" Thorn demanded, forcing himself into a defensive stance though his limbs felt heavy with a shock he could not shed.
Greed chuckled, the sound soft and amused. "You do not need to waste your breath, King Thorn. I am not here for any such fight. I am only here to help my master."
Master? Kibo or DeathGod? Morganna wondered, eyes narrowing as she watched Greed carry Kibo like a fragile relic.
Greed's smile tightened, the expression folding into something dangerous. "Do not even start thinking about it, King Thorn," he said, each word measured. The threat behind his smile was absolute. "Unlike my master, who plays with his toys, I will not hold back."
Thorn stood very still, taking in the fresh wreckage, the bodies still warm where they lay, the exhausted breathing of those who had fought and failed. Astrid, Mael, Nina, and Takashi all lay unmoving. The weight of the scene pressed down on him like winter. He let out a slow, ragged sigh. It is a losing game, he thought, the thought a bitter stone settling in his gut.
Greed shifted Kibo in his arms and began to walk toward the ruined castle, each step deliberate, almost ceremonial. "Thank you for understanding," he said without looking back. "Now, let us attend to the necessary things of the kingdom." His voice was silk and iron mixed together.
As he passed Sora, he paused for the briefest moment and offered her a chilling smile that landed like a cold blade. "Lucky you," he murmured.
Sora's Glacial Veil melted away as if it had never been. She watched Greed carry Kibo off and felt something in her chest unclench and then break—relief braided with a hollow, aching worry. Her gaze fell, steadied, on Subaru's still body. Pain like a hot brand flared through her, but she forced herself up, hands trembling, because there were still people who needed her.
Morganna rose too, knees weak but moving. Thorn, however, could not hold himself. He swayed, the world tilting under the weight of loss and exhaustion, and then crumpled to his knees.
"Thorn! Thorn!" Morganna shouted, voice cracking as she rushed to his side.
Thorn looked at her face, eyes glassy and heavy with grief. Subaru, he thought, the admission a raw thing he could not swallow. His lids drooped; the breath that escaped him was shallow, and the last sight he clung to was Morganna's frantic, desperate face.
Then he passed out.
~~~~~~~~~~~
Thorn woke with a sharp gasp, the name tearing from his throat before he even knew he was awake. "Subaru!" His breathing came heavy and ragged, each inhale scraping against his ribs. For a moment, the place was only darkness and the echo of his own voice.
Then warmth closed around him — Morganna's arms. She held him without a word, her presence anchoring him in the chaos of his mind. The smell of her hair, the faint trembling in her body — all of it reminded him that he was still here. He exhaled shakily, the relief of her touch washing over the deep ache that had carved its home inside his chest. Slowly, he wrapped his one remaining arm around her, returning the embrace as if to remind himself she was real.
His gaze drifted downward. The empty space where his arm should have been made his breath catch. He stared at the wound for a long time before his eyes wandered toward the jagged hole in the wall — the cold night sky beyond framed by ruin. The stars stared back at him like indifferent witnesses.
"Morganna," he said softly, untangling from her hold.
She gave him a fragile smile, her voice trembling slightly. "I was so worried, my love."
Thorn met her gaze, his own eyes warm but clouded with grief. "I am sorry," he said quietly. "It seems my hand cannot be regenerated."
Morganna's smile faltered, but she nodded. "Yes. I tried… it is beyond repair."
"That's fine," he murmured, dismissing the wound with a weary tone. "Seeing you safe is enough." He paused, collecting himself. "How are the girls? How is Sylphira? How is everyone doing?"
Morganna reached out, brushing her fingers gently over his cheek as if to calm him. "Everyone is safe. Our daughter is with her friend, consoling her. They are both shaken, but alive."
Thorn exhaled, shoulders sagging slightly. "And Greed? Where is he?"
Her expression darkened. "I don't know. As soon as he settled Kibo, he left, saying he needed to handle things."
Thorn pushed himself to stand, his body protesting every movement. Morganna rose quickly to steady him. "You need to rest," she urged.
"I will rest once everything is settled," Thorn said firmly. He was already on his feet, determination flickering in his tired eyes. Morganna sighed but followed as they stepped into the corridor.
The castle hallways were quiet, filled with the smell of smoke and stone. Their footsteps echoed softly as they passed through what was left of their home. Thorn's voice broke the silence. "The people? Have they been rescued? Any word from Eyrndor or Lucian?"
"Yes," Morganna replied. "We reached them not long ago. They were told the war is over. They are not in the castle now…they are with the people, helping them rebuild and find shelter."
"I see," Thorn murmured, the weight of leadership pressing down again. "And Subaru's body?"
Her steps slowed. "His body is in the special room you built for him."
"Is anyone there?"
"Yes," she whispered.
They turned the corner — and the sound hit them first. The sound of pure anguish. Lily's cries ripped through the stillness like blades, the kind of crying that had no rhythm, only pain. The door to the room stood open.
Inside, the sight struck like a physical blow. Lily knelt beside Subaru's lifeless body, her hair now crimson red. Her eyes, too, were now crimson red, swollen and wet, shining with heartbreak. She clutched Subaru's hands as if holding tighter could pull him back. Her body shook with every sob.
Syl held her from behind, arms wrapped tightly around her shoulders, whispering over and over, "It's okay… it's okay… you're not alone…" But her voice was breaking too, the words trembling into silence.
"Why is he gone? Why is he gone, my grandpa? Why is he gone? Why?" Her voice cracked again and again, desperate, pleading for an answer that would never come.
Thorn stood frozen in the doorway, the pain in his chest flaring until he could barely breathe. He looked at Subaru's body, the stillness of it, the finality. His eyes moved to Sora, who stood nearby, silent, her face unreadable but her gaze fixed on the corpse. Beside her stood Bram, his head bowed.
When Bram noticed Thorn and Morganna, he stepped toward them quietly. Thorn turned away first, stepping back from the door as though the sight burned to look at, then gestured for Morganna to follow him.
Bram joined them in the corridor. "Thorn," he called softly.
Thorn faced him, his voice low. "Bram… the people, are they safe?"
"Yes," Bram said after a pause. "They are safe. I was able to reach Wu and inform him of everything. He said he's already taking care of the situation."
Bram's lips parted, as though he wanted to say more, but he hesitated. The words caught in his throat and died there.
Thorn understood, his gaze distant but steady. "Thank you, Bram. I will leave the rest to you. I… need to think."
Bram gave a silent nod before turning back into the room, his expression unreadable, though the weight of grief was clear in his posture. The door shut softly behind him.
Morganna lingered beside Thorn, her voice gentle, barely above a whisper. "Thorn… I know how much you're hurting. Are you sure you don't want to speak with Bram? You both lost someone dear."
Thorn's lips curved into a faint, weary smile — one that didn't reach his eyes. "I will, Morganna. But not now. Right now, we need to think about what lies ahead." He paused, the air growing heavier around him. "I still don't trust Greed… and how he became a Demon King." His brows furrowed as the thought deepened. "Something about it doesn't sit right."
Morganna studied him quietly, her hands folded against her chest. "You think he's hiding something?"
Thorn's voice dropped to a thoughtful murmur. "Maybe. Or maybe fate just has cruel timing." He took a slow breath before changing the subject. "Besides that, what about the Paladin Knights?"
"They are awake," she said softly. "But they are grieving. They lost their captain."
A flicker of sorrow passed through Thorn's eyes. "I see… Then I will visit them tomorrow."
Morganna hesitated. "One of their own is missing."
Thorn turned to her, his tone sharpened by concern. "Missing? Was he…"
"There is no need to worry," Morganna interrupted gently. "He left a letter before leaving. It seems he's gone on his own accord. Whatever his reasons, they were his to bear."
Thorn nodded slowly, a quiet understanding settling in his gaze. "It's understandable," he murmured. "Sometimes, grief demands solitude."
He began walking again, his steps measured, heavy with thought. Morganna followed in silence, her eyes flicking once more toward the hall they had left — where the cries of mourning still echoed faintly behind closed doors.
~~~~~~~~~~
Outside Balmount, beneath the oppressive weight of the moonlight, the Priest stumbled through the forest. His robes were torn, his breath ragged. Shadows clung to the twisted trees around him, their branches clawing at the sky. The scent of blood and damp earth filled the air.
His mind was chaos. "I need to report to the master… the mission is complete… what will be my next task? Where… where is the rendezvous point?" Each step was hurried, frantic. The forest seemed endless, the silence unbearable — until a voice, calm and cold, sliced through it.
"Where do you think you are going?"
The Priest froze. Every muscle in his body locked. He spun toward the voice, heart hammering in his chest. "Who is it? Show yourself!"
Then he saw them.
His eyes went wide, the color draining from his face. "No… the Sins!"
From between the trees, Envy stepped into the moonlight. The mask he wore was frozen in a perpetual smile — serene, yet impossibly unnerving. In his arms, he carried Takashi, the boy deeply asleep, untouched by the tension in the air. Beside Envy stood Gluttony, a looming shadow, his sharp, predatory teeth glinting whenever he grinned. The very air trembled with the force of their mana, thick enough to make breathing painful.
The Priest stumbled back a step, trembling. "The Sins… what are you doing here?"
Envy tilted his head slightly, his voice smooth and quiet, but every syllable carried danger. "It's no longer the Sins," he said, taking a slow step forward. "It's Demon King now."
Gluttony's low chuckle rumbled through the trees as he followed Envy's advance, his grin widening in the pale light. The forest itself seemed to shudder, the darkness swallowing the Priest's last shred of courage.
"Demon King? How?" The Priest's trembling voice cracked as he struggled to comprehend.
Envy tilted his head, his mask glinting faintly in the moonlight. "I did ask you a question," he said, voice soft but sharp. "Where are you off to?"
The Priest's mind screamed at him to flee, to run and survive, but his body hesitated. If I run… I die. If I stay… I die slower. Panic overtook thought. He turned and stumbled into the trees.
He made it only three steps.
A shadow streaked through the dark, and a hand seized his ankle. The next instant, the world flipped — his body slammed into the cold ground, the breath knocked out of him. Before he could scream, something heavy pressed down on him.
Gluttony.
The figure crouched low, his grin stretching unnaturally wide. Then came the sound — a wet, slicing crack. Pain like white fire tore through the Priest's body as he realized his leg had been severed cleanly.
He shrieked, clutching at the blood-soaked stump, his cries echoing through the forest. Gluttony lifted the mangled limb to his mouth and bit down with audible delight. The crunch of bone and sinew filled the silence.
"Please!" the Priest sobbed, dragging himself, leaving a dark trail in the grass. "Please, stop! What do you want from me?!"
Envy stepped lightly over Gluttony's crouched form, his shoes silent against the forest floor. With the faintest flicker of irritation, he pressed his heel into the Priest's other leg. Bone shattered under the weight. The Priest's scream was cut short as Envy's eyes glowed faintly, sealing the man's mouth shut with a whisper of magic.
"I did ask you, Priest," Envy murmured, his tone patient, almost kind. "Where are you going?"
The Priest's muffled cries grew desperate, the agony in his eyes pleading for mercy. Envy crouched, tilting his head slightly, studying the fear with quiet fascination.
But before another word could fall, a new voice rolled through the clearing — calm, rich, and dripping with cold amusement.
"You don't have to torture my toy now, Envy."
Both Envy and Gluttony paused. The forest itself seemed to hold its breath.
From the darkness above, a figure descended — dark light tracing faintly around him. Greed's presence was unmistakable, his smile effortless and unreadable.
"Greed," Envy breathed, the name carrying both respect and not surprised.
The Priest's eyes went wide with hope. Master…!
Greed's gaze softened with false sympathy as he regarded the mutilated servant. "Can you let go of him already?" he said, his tone light, but every word held authority. "He has suffered enough, hasn't he?"
Envy's eyes flickered, but he obeyed, lifting the silencing spell. The Priest gasped, the taste of blood and dirt thick in his throat. He immediately began to crawl toward Greed, sobbing. "Master! Please help! I have done everything you commanded… tell me what missions you have for me next!"
Greed chuckled — a dry, hollow sound that somehow filled the forest. "Oh, do be quiet, will you?" His eyes glowed faintly, his smile widening just enough to show something cruel beneath the charm. "Can't you see you are in the presence of three Kings now? Who gave you the right to speak?"
The Priest froze, trembling violently, his lips snapping shut without another sound. Fear swallowed him whole.
Greed's attention drifted lazily from the broken man to Envy, then to the boy sleeping peacefully in Envy's arms. His tone shifted, light but edged. "You have been quite a nuisance, Envy. Sending your boy without permission?"
Envy's masked face turned slightly, the smile carved into it seeming almost to deepen. "And what do you mean by that?"
Greed let out a low hum, the kind that made the air feel heavier. "Don't play innocent with me. You and I both know what lines should not be crossed. What you did…" He waved a hand dismissively, the air shimmering faintly with his power. "Is a no, no, no for me." His grin sharpened. "You are already testing my patience, Envy."
Envy's tone remained calm, but his mana rippled faintly. "You speak as if patience is something you actually possess."
Greed's smile didn't falter. "Oh, I do," he said softly. "Just not for those who forget who pulls the strings."
Envy's voice was calm, yet edged with curiosity. "And you… why do all this? You do know that what you have been doing is pointless."
Greed's eyes shimmered faintly beneath the moonlight. He tilted his head, smiling as if the question amused him deeply. "And?" His tone was smooth, dripping with confidence. "Didn't I accomplish what I wanted? Besides…" He stepped closer, his gaze sharp and knowing. "What I do isn't always pointless, is it?"
Envy's mask seemed to darken in the quiet. "No," he admitted softly. "It hasn't been. The Master… how is he?" His concern was veiled, his tone almost indifferent, but Greed caught the flicker beneath the surface.
Greed chuckled lowly, the sound both charming and cruel. "Doing well, I would say. Though…" His smile faltered for just a heartbeat. "There is an issue I can't fix myself."
Envy was about to speak. "Very well, if you—"
"I don't need your help," Greed cut in sharply, his tone losing its playful air. His gaze hardened, the smile turning thin and dangerous. "I'm only telling you so you know the situation. Don't think me foolish enough to let you near the Master, not after the stunts you've pulled."
Envy's voice stayed calm, though there was a quiet defiance in it. "Those stunts," he said, "were the will of the Master."
Greed's grin returned, sharp as glass. "And so is my decision."
For a brief moment, the forest went silent — only the faint rustle of leaves and the wet sound of Gluttony devouring echoed in the distance.
"You've already found your way into the Master's life," Envy said, his tone faintly envious despite his calm. "Why shouldn't you allow me? I envy you, Greed."
Greed laughed once, dry and humorless. "No, no, no," he said slowly, waving a hand. "Let's not twist meanings tonight. Stay in your role, Envy, and I will stay in mine." His eyes gleamed. "You're beginning to sound a bit too… greedy."
Envy's head tilted slightly. "I see." His reply was short, but there was weight behind it. He turned his gaze briefly toward Gluttony, who was ignoring them entirely, his attention fixed on the trembling Priest.
Greed continued, his tone turning conversational again, though the undercurrent of threat was unmistakable. "And let's not pretend I don't know what you're plotting. You already have a plan in motion to crawl deeper into the Master's circle, don't you?"
"Empty words," Envy replied flatly. "I do not know what you mean."
Greed's lips curled into a slow, predatory smile. "Oh, I don't need you to understand. I only need you to remember that I have eyes and ears everywhere. What you do is no secret to me."
Envy's mana pulsed faintly, but his voice was quiet. "Secret… You do realize I'm not one to hide anything?"
Greed laughed, and this time it was genuine — a mocking, dangerous sound that echoed across the dark woods. "Say whatever you wish. I couldn't care less about what you plan. But remember this." His tone dropped low, almost whisper-like, yet every word carried power. "If any of you — any of the Demon Kings — dares to become a thorn in the Master's path… you will face the consequences of your actions. And I promise, it won't be pleasant."
The air grew cold. The weight of Greed's mana pressed against the forest like a suffocating blanket.
"If none of you wish to have the whole world against you," he added softly, his eyes locking with Envy's mask, "then do not test me."
For a long, tense moment, neither moved. Only the trees dared whisper between them.
Finally, Envy's voice came, steady and low. "I wouldn't want that."
Greed's smile returned — effortless, disarming, dangerous. "Good. I appreciate your cooperation." He turned smoothly. "I'll be on my way."
"Master!" the Priest suddenly screamed, his broken voice piercing the silence. "Why? Why are you leaving me here?!"
Greed paused mid-step, glancing back. His expression softened almost fondly. "Oh, right," he murmured. "I forgot about you." He turned to Gluttony with a careless shrug. "You can have him."
The Priest's eyes went wide in raw terror. "No—! Master, please! I did everything! Please, I beg you!"
But Greed only gave a lazy smile as Gluttony rose to his full, height, teeth gleaming in the dim light.
The Priest's screams split the air, short-lived and muffled as Gluttony tore into him. Blood stained the soil. Greed watched for a moment, utterly unfazed, then looked back at Envy.
"Goodbye," he said simply, giving a courteous little wave before walking into the darkness, his aura fading with each step.
Envy lingered, his mask unreadable. He turned slightly toward Gluttony. "Hurry up."
Gluttony did not answer. His attention was fully consumed by the feast, his jaw grinding bone.
Envy sighed faintly as he watched. He always did enjoy dragging things out.