Torgo’s words turned Seth into a madman devoid of conscience.
Seth stared at the elder Torgo with an incredulous expression.
Torgo’s face twisted at Seth’s sharp, displeased look.
“What’s with that glare?”
Despite the scolding question, Seth didn’t avert his gaze.
Over Torgo’s frowning face, Seth saw Floria walking alone, burdened by a heart torn apart, silently swallowing her grief.
A deep rage began to boil within Seth’s chest.
“What… are you saying right now?”
“What?”
“How can you say something like that in this situation? Is that something an elder should say?”
Seth’s quiet fury, his eyes bloodshot, startled both Torgo and Talos.
Though Seth had always been rough and curt with peers, he had been respectful to his superiors.
Yet here he was, glaring at Torgo in front of Talos, the master he revered like the heavens.
“You insolent brat! How dare you look at me like that? Bow your head this instant!”
Torgo’s enraged shout echoed, but Seth’s anger didn’t subside.
The old man raged on, and the commotion spread to those nearby.
“What’s going on?”
Shariel, passing by, intervened.
After Obern’s death, Shariel had become an elder on Rita’s recommendation.
Seeing her face, Seth snapped back to his senses.
The surroundings were now buzzing with noise. Startled by the curious gazes of his peers, Seth reflexively fled.
He hid behind the barracks in a secluded forest, collapsing under a large tree, staring at his trembling hands.
The burning anger lingered, searing his insides.
Had Torgo continued his shameless behavior, Seth might have grabbed him by the collar.
During Torgo’s outburst, Seth had restrained his rising fists twice.
Pounding his chest in frustration, Seth seethed for a long while.
The anger refused to subside.
No matter how he tried to suppress it, it surged even more. Feeling as if his body might burst from the unpleasant heat, he loosened his collar.
Finally, Seth stood and began punching an innocent tree trunk.
It felt as though only destruction could quell this rage.
The repeated impacts left his knuckles bruised and bleeding. As the stinging pain slowly registered, a rustling sound came from behind.
Turning, he saw Floria leaning against a tree trunk.
“Lady Floria…?”
“That’s your change, isn’t it?”
Floria muttered with an impassive face.
Seth, standing dazed for a moment, belatedly noticed her gaze on his hands.
“Oh…”
He also noticed the battered tree trunk.
Damaging a tree in front of a Child of the Forest—what an absurd sight.
But more bewildering was how he’d been so consumed by his relentless punching.
Only then did Seth recognize the “change” within himself.
Floria sighed softly, watching Seth’s growing confusion.
The Seth who had been furiously punching moments ago, eyes bloodshot, was the epitome of a madman.
The Seth who never bowed to Satan’s violence had clearly inherited its traits. He would likely come to despise himself for it, just as Floria had.
“…I…”
Floria began to speak but quickly fell silent.
Her mind went blank, unsure of what to say.
‘Get a grip. Hold on.’
There were plenty of formal words of encouragement, but would they truly comfort Seth?
Floria couldn’t decide.
“No, it’s fine.”
After hesitating for a long time, Floria sighed and turned away.
Seth instinctively reached out as her gaze fell.
He wanted to call out for help, but his fingertips trembled.
Ironically, Satan’s voice echoed in his mind.
“That other race died because of your weakness.”
The voice tormented Seth like a branded curse.
“Do I even have the right to ask for her help?”
Muttering softly, Seth shook his head.
He was now nothing but a sinner before Floria.
Bound by the curse, Seth lowered his outstretched hand.
***
“That insolent brat! Chasing after Rita has made him lose all manners! How dare he act like that toward his revered master…!”
In the Mage Tower, elders were second only to Talos in the respect they commanded.
Having enjoyed such treatment until now, Torgo fumed at Seth’s defiance.
“Calm down. Seth must be shaken by his sudden change. Be generous and understand,” Talos said, his explanation cloaked in a perfect mask.
Torgo barely relaxed his expression.
“As if a bit of mana growth makes him special…! That Child of the Forest became golden-eyed and even more arrogant, and now Seth, that brat…!”
Torgo, still seething, tilted his head in confusion.
“Wait. Isn’t it strange? Why does someone grow every time a mother beast is defeated?”
Talos paused at Torgo’s puzzled question.
Indeed, it was odd, and strange rumors were circulating within the camp.
Mana growth wasn’t common, yet every time a mother beast was defeated, one of their group returned stronger—a peculiar pattern.
“Does the mother beast leave behind some immense mana?”
Torgo’s muttering widened Talos’s eyes.
At the same time, he recalled Floria’s secretive behavior.
Could her carnivorous nature be related?
Though unconfirmed, the plausible connection made Talos smile inwardly.
“Enough. Let’s go. We have to head into the forest early tomorrow, don’t we?”
Having vented his anger, Torgo now fretted about the next day.
Talos and Karina were openly competing in the conquest campaign.
Currently, Karina’s forces were in the lead.
“Who knew those Free Mages would advance so quickly…? We need to conquer Bamil before it’s too late. Show those fools who’s boss.”
Humiliated by the interim results, Torgo ground his teeth.
But despite the urgency, Talos smiled enigmatically.
“This won’t end so simply. We need to look further ahead.”
“What do you mean?”
“Think about it. A mother beast strong enough to kill a supreme-rank must be formidable. Shouldn’t we lend a hand?”
Torgo’s face paled.
“Are you mad? That’s no place for first-ranks! We’d just die. The supreme-ranks will handle it.”
“But I’m the Mage Tower Master, aren’t I? I should stand by Rita’s side and help.”
Torgo’s eyes widened at Talos’s hearty laugh.
“You… truly are remarkable. To have such generosity despite that brat’s insolence.”
Oblivious to Talos’s hidden motives, Torgo looked at him with admiration.
Talos merely smiled, concealing his cunning intentions.
***
After Eileen’s death, a heavy atmosphere lingered over the expedition.
Normally, Sercia would urge them to hunt beasts immediately, and Rita would gravely insist on finding and killing Fragments as soon as possible.
But now, both quietly observed Floria’s condition.
Yet Floria herself, starting from the second day, appeared surprisingly composed.
It was unclear if she was pretending, but she moved through the camp without showing grief.
“What should we do?” Sercia asked Rita during a chance meeting.
Rita couldn’t answer immediately, and Valery spoke up instead.
“With Satan dead, the front lines are quite favorable. Since Talos and Karina’s strategies are ongoing, how about staying at the main camp until Allen and Bamil are secured?”
Uncharacteristically, Valery showed consideration for Floria. Sercia nodded but waited for Rita’s response.
‘At the point we’ve discovered Asmodeus’s offspring, is waiting the right choice?’
Asmodeus, a Fragment with a goat’s head.
Its offspring were highly aggressive, wielding strong physical power even as hatchlings.
Due to their unique trait of fighting among themselves, they often killed each other, making Asmodeus, alongside Belphegor, one of the slowest-reproducing among the seven Fragments.
‘If that trait holds, a few days’ delay shouldn’t matter much…’
But so much had already deviated from her past life.
The unease about uncharted territories, Floria’s true condition, and Seth’s state weighed on Rita, trapping her in deep thought.
‘Fine. Let’s observe a bit longer. I can scout alone if needed.’
Ultimately, the search was postponed for a few days.
The three, with bitter smiles, left the barracks.
As Sercia moved to survey the main camp, her gaze lingered on a spot.
“Is something happening? It’s noisy over there.”
With a supreme-rank’s keen senses, Rita and Valery’s gazes followed hers.
Listening closely, there was indeed a loud commotion. The three exchanged glances and hurried over.
They arrived at a clearing where the soldiers’ and mages’ barracks met.
A crowd had formed a large circle around a bonfire, and silver hair was visible at the center.
“Yan?”
Recognizing him, Rita’s name was called by Blena, who approached in a panic.
Beside her, Alois looked even more flustered.
But more shocking was Yan, straddling a young soldier, gripping his collar, and poised to strike with a clenched fist.
“No!”
Rita’s head spun.
If Yan, capable of tearing apart sturdy beasts with ease, struck a human with that strength, it would be disastrous.
Moreover, the crowd’s gazes were already filled with fear and disgust. Rita rushed into the throng.
“Yan!”
His furious eyes widened at her voice.
Recognizing Rita, Yan turned, his lips moving to express joy.
But Rita’s expression was stern.
Sensing the tense atmosphere, Yan slowly stood, though his breathing remained heavy, and his hostility toward the unknown soldier lingered.
“Too bad. I could’ve crushed him.”
A whistle of regret came from somewhere.
It was Eugene.
With his hands behind his head, Eugene glanced at Rita slyly.
“You’ll need to keep him in check if you’re keeping him at the main camp.”
Rita frowned, and Sercia grabbed her shoulder.
“He’s right. If you’ve decided to take him in, you need to tighten the leash.”
“What?”
Sercia gave a bitter smile.
“Wild beasts aren’t meant to be tamed. If you can’t take responsibility to the end, let him go.”
Her gaze at Yan was unfamiliar, as if revealing a hidden truth. The cold look startled Rita.
Perplexed by the sudden treatment of Yan as a beast, Rita watched Sercia leave with a faint smile.
“What’s going on?”
The commotion had drawn Saint Michael, who approached Yan with a gentle expression, bypassing Rita’s troubled look.
“Yan, why did this happen? We’re all on the same side here. You can’t pick fights or cause trouble.”
Speaking as if to a child, Michael’s soothing words were ignored by Yan.
He looked as if a dog were barking at him.
Embarrassed by the dismissal, Michael faltered until Rita stepped forward.
At her approach, Yan’s sulky expression brightened.
But Rita remained impassive.
Startled by her cold gaze, Yan stepped back.