The forest was frozen.
The hammer that had been poised above Aira's neck now hovered midair, suspended by the sheer audacity of that lazy, drawling voice.
All eyes lifted.
And there he was—sprawled across the branch like a man without a care in the world, one hand pillowing his head, the other idly plucking a leaf from the tree.
The Sloth Leader.
Gasps rippled through the camp. His very presence was an insult—calm, careless, as though he'd been watching the entire spectacle without once considering it worth interfering in.
Lust's lips twisted into a snarl.
Lust Leader: "You… You're not trying to get in my way like last time, are you?"
Sloth yawned, not even looking directly at her.
Sloth Leader: "Sighs? That sounds like effort. I climbed. Took a nap. Woke up to you screeching."
A ripple of laughter burst from Lust's subordinates, though her withering glare cut it short.
Meanwhile—hidden just out of their notice—Bjorn strained against the ropes that bound him to the trunk. His wrists were raw, blood slicking the thick cord, but no matter how much he pulled or twisted, the fibers wouldn't give. His breaths came sharp and heavy, his body trembling with both fury and helplessness. Yet the camp's attention remained fixed on the tree branch above.
The Sloth Leader exhaled heavily, shifting his weight with careless grace—only to slip.
A collective gasp tore through the clearing. He tumbled from the branch in a lazy spiral, his cloak fluttering like a dying leaf. Lust's lips curved into a triumphant smirk.
But the smirk froze.
The moment Sloth's body touched the ground, the earth cracked beneath his heel with a thunderous impact—Bang, like a cannon going off. Dust exploded outward, trees shivered, and the ground rippled as though recoiling from his weight. He rose from the small crater he'd made, brushing dirt off his shoulder, eyes still half-lidded with that unbearable laziness.
The camp stood in stunned silence.
As Bjorn twisted his wrists against the rope, the fibers bit into his skin, mocking his strength. Every pull only made the knot bite tighter. His breath came ragged, frustration boiling in his chest.
Then his gaze fell below him—onto Aira's still form, her chest faintly rising and falling.
Bjorn (grimacing, muttering to himself):
"Tch… I just hope this girl is alrig—"
The words stopped dead in his throat. His face twisted, a snarl breaking across it as if he'd bitten into something rotten.
"The hell am I saying?!" he spat under his breath, yanking harder at the ropes. "Since when do I give a damn about anyone but myself?!"
His voice dropped into a harsh growl, low and venomous, as though he were trying to convince himself.
"No. This isn't worry. This is payback. I can't let her die before I pay her back… That's all it is."
The branches rustled as the Sloth Leader finally descended, his posture slouched but his eyes sharp as knives. He glanced at Aira's unconscious body sprawled on the ground, and his lip curled in disgust.
Sloth Leader (to Aira, voice dripping with contempt):
"Tch. Pathetic. What the hell did my own member let happen to her? Hm? Can't even keep yourself standing—already lying in the dirt like trash."
His gaze shifted, landing briefly on Bjorn. His eyes narrowed.
Sloth Leader (in his thoughts, cold and dismissive):
"…This guy."
Then his head snapped toward the Lust Leader and her entourage, his slouch straightening just enough to carry weight. His tone sharpened, laced with insult.
Sloth Leader (to Lust faction):
"You lot really think the Sloths are easy to mess with, don't you?!"
A dry laugh escaped his throat before he spat again:
"Ever heard the saying—a dog is strong as long as it's inside its house? You barged into my territory without permission… and you were about to kill one of mine, when she hadn't done a damn thing to provoke you."
He tilted his head, eyes narrowing with venom.
Sloth Leader:
"You must really think the Sloths are weak. Easy prey. Easy to crush."
The Sloth Leader's voice carried like a whip crack through the frozen camp, his lazy tone laced with an almost casual cruelty. Every word stung like an accusation.
Lust's jaw tightened, the vein in her temple twitching as she slowly rose to her feet. Her smile was razor-thin, dripping venom.
Lust Leader (mocking, scornful):
"Territory? Do you even know what you're saying, Sloth? Your faction is nothing but rats who hide in the dark, too pathetic to lift a finger unless someone dares to step on their tails. And this girl—" she points at the unconscious Aira with a claw-like finger "—don't make me laugh. She's in my way of claim what mine."
Her followers jeered, emboldened by her words, though some faltered when the Sloth Leader's half-lidded eyes turned briefly toward them.
Lust Leader (snapping, venom rising):
"And you—dare to threaten me? You think your silence makes you dangerous? No. It makes you irrelevant."
Her smirk widened into a predatory grin. She raised her hand, and her members surged behind her, weapons flashing in the pale light.
Lust Leader (commanding roar):
"Sloth, if you want to protect your scraps, then fall with them!"
Then — Bjorn's voice cracked through the chaos like a whip:
"THE HELL DO YOU PEOPLE THINK YOU'RE DOING?!"
Both factions froze for a heartbeat. His eyes were blazing, veins straining against the ropes, teeth bared in fury.
"CLAIMING WHAT'S YOURS?! LEADERSHIP?!"
His voice grew louder, angrier.
"ARE YOU FUCKING KIDDING ME?! YOU'D BETTER COME AND UNTIE ME RIGHT NOW!"
The Lust members broke into mocking laughter.
"Listen to the tied-up dog bark."
"He's got a mouth, I'll give him that."
But Bjorn only roared louder, his anger cutting through their ridicule:
"HOW THE FUCK DOES ANY OF THIS CONCERN ME?!"
His denial and fury spilled out in every word, a mix of frustration, rage, and something he didn't want to admit — the sight of Aira unconscious beneath him.