The closer they got to the small red-roofed house, the more a rhythmic, sharp sound filled the air. The steady thwack of an axe splitting wood seemed to echo throughout the entire forest.
Meliodas and Zeldris stopped, listening.
"Do you hear that?" Meliodas asked, brow furrowed. "That sound… it's echoing all through the woods."
Zeldris nodded, cautious.
"Yeah. It's not a normal sound."
Rebecca, however, smiled proudly.
"That's my dad. He's chopping wood. He's a lumberjack. Supplies the people in the port… even those up north."
Meliodas looked surprised.
"Impressive."
"My dad's really strong," Rebecca said with a protective tone.
They finally reached the house—a modest, well-kept home. A little ways off, by the edge of the trees, a muscular figure was cutting logs with strength and precision.
"Wait here," Rebecca said, turning to them. "I'll let my father know I'm back… and that I didn't come alone."
She skipped forward happily.
"Daddy! I'm home!"
The man stopped, set down his axe, and turned with calm composure.
"Welcome back, sweetheart. Did your morning at the church go well?"
Rebecca ran to hug him.
"Yes! It went great!"
But the man frowned. His gaze shifted past her to the two figures standing at a distance.
"Pumpkin… you didn't come back alone."
Rebecca hesitated, a little guilty.
"Well… about that…"
Meanwhile, from a distance, Zeldris tapped his foot impatiently.
"How long is this conversation going to take?"
Meliodas, however, was staring at the artifact. The red glow was no longer a soft pulse. It now shone like a midday star.
Zeldris noticed it too.
"Something wrong?"
Meliodas held up the artifact, stunned.
"Look. It's glowing… intensely. And the light—it's pointing directly at him… at Rebecca's father."
Zeldris paled.
"No. You think… it's him? That guy is Zéphyr? That'd be one hell of a coincidence…"
"Don't you feel it?" Meliodas said, eyes locked. "A faint demonic energy… It's coming from him."
Zeldris opened his mouth to respond, but at that very moment, Rebecca entered the house.
And her father… started walking toward them.
Step by step.
Then suddenly… he vanished.
"You see him?!" Zeldris shouted.
"No… You?"
"Nothing… He's gone!"
But before he could finish his sentence, a shadow appeared behind him. A strong arm wrapped tightly around his neck.
Zeldris struggled, but it was no use.
"Wha… What the—! I… I can't use my magic! I can't move!"
Meliodas shifted position to get a clearer view.
The attacker had short black hair… streaked with blond. His eyes… a deep green—somewhere between Meliodas and Zeldris. An unsettling resemblance.
Meliodas felt his heart pound.
He spoke in a trembling voice:
"Your… your name is Zéphyr, isn't it?"
The figure stared at him, cold and severe.
Then, in a deep voice:
"How do you know my name…?"