Chapter 438: Chapter 427: Invitation
[Realm: ??lfheimr]
[Location: Quadling Country]
Puck tilted her tiny head to the side, her small expression narrowing in thought as she drifted along beside Grimm, clearly trying to piece sothing together. After a mont, she spoke, her voice carrying curiosity and the tone of soone working through a puzzle aloud.
"If that dragon I ntioned was really your lieutenant," she asked slowly, watching him with interest, "then why would she transform like that in the first place? I an—was there a reason she’d suddenly shift into a dragon instead of staying in whatever form she normally travels in?"
They were once again walking along what could only generously be described as a road. It was less a true road and more a long stretch of ground where the rocky terrain had worn down just enough to form sothing resembling a path. The trail cut through a wide rocky expanse, winding between large stone formations and hills of various sizes that rose like waves on either side. Loose gravel crunched under Grimm’s sabatons with every step he took.
Despite the terrain, Grimm maintained an unhurried pace. Puck eventually drifted slightly closer to him, clearly unwilling to leave her question unanswered. Grimm did not respond imdiately. His helted head faced forward as though considering the matter.
"I would assu," Grimm said evenly, his voice carrying a neutral tone, "that she encountered an opponent who required effort on her part. If the situation escalated to a level where restraint beca impractical, transforming would have been the most efficient way to resolve it." He paused briefly, then added in the sa thoughtful tone, "Though there is also another possibility. It may have simply been an instinctive reaction triggered by the circumstances of being forcibly transported between realms. Sudden displacent can place considerable strain on the body, especially if one is not prepared for it."
Puck blinked once, then floated slightly ahead of him so she could look up at his helt more directly.
"Oh... wait." She tapped her chin lightly with an armored finger as another thought occurred to her. "Did the sa thing happen to you when you arrived here?"
Grimm shook his head once.
"No. My journey into this realm was interrupted before its completion," he explained. "If I were to speculate, that interruption likely altered the transition process. In practical terms, it may have made the passage smoother than it otherwise would have been." He paused again before adding another detail. "However, I was unconscious when I finally arrived within this realm. That condition may also have contributed to the outco."
Puck blinked again, clearly absorbing that piece of information.
"Huh, so basically," she said slowly, drifting in a small circle as she thought it through, "you’re saying that sotis when things get intense—like when you’re under serious pressure—you people just transform?" Her voice held a note of fascination.
Grimm nodded slightly.
"I suppose it could be described that way," he said. "Among the more advanced of our kind, it is possible to develop a particular survival response."
Puck imdiately leaned closer, her curiosity sharpening. "Oh? Like what kind of response?"
Grimm continued walking as he answered.
"Our species already possesses a highly advanced regenerative capability," he said calmly. "Most injuries can be repaired by the body with ti. However, regeneration alone is not always sufficient. Severe trauma—especially damage that disrupts vital structures—can still result in death." He lifted one armored hand slightly as if illustrating the concept. "To address that limitation, so Descendants train themselves to develop a secondary safeguard. By conditioning the body in a specific way, one can trigger a transformation with the second stage of Paradigm Rebirth automatically when their physical state deteriorates beyond a certain threshold."
Puck’s eyes widened.
"So if your body gets too damaged..." she said slowly.
"...the transformation activates before death can occur," Grimm finished.
For a mont, Puck simply stared at him.
"Whoa," she breathed, clearly impressed. "That’s actually really useful. Like seriously useful."
She floated backward slightly, folding her tiny armored arms as she continued thinking aloud.
"I an, if traveling between realms is as rough, then yeah—it kind of makes sense your lieutenant might’ve transford during the process. If things got unstable or sothing, her body might’ve just reacted automatically."
Her gaze shifted back to Grimm with renewed curiosity.
"But then that brings up another question." She tilted her head again. "If she might be sowhere north of here, why are we still heading south?" Her voice carried genuine confusion now. "Wouldn’t it make more sense to go looking for your lieutenant in the direction she probably ended up?"
Grimm did not slow his pace.
"I already have a plan regarding that matter," he said simply.
Puck’s eyes lit up imdiately.
"Oh?" she said eagerly. "Alright, now I’m curious. What kind of plan are we talking about?"
Grimm answered without hesitation.
"When the ti is appropriate, I will call for her."
Puck blinked.
"...Call for her?"
"Yes."
Grimm continued in the sa composed tone.
"Once contact is established, we will determine a mutually identifiable location. At that point, we can use the harpy’s feather to transport ourselves closer to her position. That thod will reduce unnecessary travel ti."
For a mont there was silence.
Then Puck’s entire face brightened with sudden excitent.
"Wait—hold on!" she said, practically bouncing in the air. "Does that an you’re actually going to transform?" A wide grin spread across her tiny face as she drifted closer again. "Like fully transform? Into a dragon?"
Behind them, the Cowardly Lion had been walking quietly for most of the conversation. But now his steps slowed slightly as the words finally settled into his mind.
His eyes drifted toward Grimm’s armored back, unfocused with growing unease.
("I... I s-should’ve realized sothing wasn’t right...") His thoughts began to spiral. ("He never slled like a human... not once...") The lion swallowed hard. ("And now he’s just casually talking about turning into a dragon...") A nervous tremor ran through him as the full implication finally struck. ("W-what am I even walking with right now...?")
His gaze lingered on Grimm—the towering armored figure moving calmly ahead of them without the slightest hint of tension.
("That’s not just so man...") The lion’s throat tightened. ("That’s a creature capable of destroying everything...") A quiet gulp escaped him. ("W-what am I supposed to do...?") The further he thought about it, the more his confidence crumbled. ("Every decision I’ve made since eting him... was that a terrible mistake...?")
But despite the fear creeping up his spine, he kept walking.
"It will no doubt draw attention," Grimm continued after a mont, "but that is not necessarily a disadvantage. Attention has a tendency to draw movent, and that often brings with it opportunities. If sothing takes an interest in such a display, then perhaps sothing interesting will eventually make its way toward ."
Puck let out a quiet breath through her nose, drifting slightly closer to his shoulder as if the statent alone had been enough to test her patience.
"By ’interesting,’" she corrected dryly, her pink eyes sliding up toward the strands of Grimm’s long red hair that spilled behind his helt, "you probably an a whole lot of very motivated individuals trying their absolute hardest to kill you."
Then, after a small pause, curiosity crept back into her expression.
"Actually, now that I’m thinking about it," she said, tilting her head slightly as she studied him from the side, "what color is your dragon form anyway? I an, if you’re planning to transform out in the open like that, it’s not exactly a small detail."
Grimm answered without hesitation.
"The scales of that form are red."
Puck blinked once.
"Ah." The realization struck her almost imdiately, and her expression shifted into sothing more thoughtful as she processed it. "Right, that could actually beco a problem," she said slowly. "If your dragon form is red, people might mistake you for Ddraig depending on how large you are when you transform. He’s a red dragon too, after all. Not exactly a small one either."
She drifted slightly ahead of Grimm as she continued speaking, clearly imagining the scenario.
"And if that happens," she added, glancing back at him with a small grin, "you’d probably end up with half the world chasing after you. Either because they think they’ve spotted him or because they’re convinced they’ve found sothing even worse."
Grimm considered that for a mont.
"Hm," he murmured quietly. "That may prove interesting."
Puck stopped drifting for a mont and stared at him.
"You really do have a very skewed notion of what counts as ’interesting,’ you know that?" she sighed, shaking her head lightly as she floated back down to his side again. Her expression softened slightly after a mont. "But putting that aside for now," she continued, folding her small armored arms loosely, "there’s still sothing I’ve been wondering about."
She turned toward him fully this ti.
"What actually happened while I was in the rabbit city? I leave for a little while and suddenly it sounds like things got eventful."
Grimm answered plainly.
"The Good Witch attacked once more," he said. "She did so indirectly—through the use of golems."
Puck’s eyes widened imdiately.
"Aw, seriously?" she groaned, her shoulders slumping as disappointnt washed over her face. "You’re telling
sothing like that happened and I wasn’t even there to see it?" She rubbed her forehead lightly as if lanting her timing. "I don’t always want to miss the interesting monts..."
Grimm’s response remained neutral.
"You did not miss much," he clarified. "The spell itself was rather paltry. Its purpose was not destruction. It was rely a probing attempt, a way for her to asure what I am capable of."
Puck humd thoughtfully at that.
"Still," she said after a mont, "watching soone as powerful as her cast spells isn’t exactly an everyday experience. Even if it was just a test, that’s still sothing you don’t normally get to see up close." Her eyes drifted toward the horizon as another thought surfaced. "Actually, that makes
wonder about sothing else," she added. "Why did she stop attacking?"
She gestured vaguely behind them.
"With us being this far away from Bunnybury, this should’ve been the perfect opportunity. No city to protect, no witnesses to worry about and if she wanted to push things further, now would’ve been the ti."
Grimm wanted to respond but the words never left him.
The sound of wings cut through the air above them. It was soft at first, elegant almost, the sound did not belong to anything aggressive or hurried.
Grimm’s helt tilted upward.
Puck followed his gaze almost imdiately, and the Cowardly Lion did the sa.
High above them, a swan glided across the sky.
Its white body moved with remarkable grace, its long wings beating in slow strokes that carried it effortlessly through the air. The sunlight caught along the curve of its feathers as it passed overhead, its movent smooth enough that for a mont it almost seed unreal.
None of them spoke.
A swan in a place like this made very little sense.
The rocky landscape stretched for miles in every direction. There were no lakes nearby, no rivers and no wetlands that might draw such a creature here.
Yet there it was.
Gliding silently above them.
Then, as it passed directly overhead sothing fell. The object did not drop like a stone. Instead, it drifted downward slowly, its descent strangely gentle, as though it were sinking through water rather than air.
Puck narrowed her eyes.
It did not fall randomly. Instead, it curved through the air, its slow path guiding it directly toward Grimm. Grimm watched it approach without moving, as it drew closer, the details beca clearer. It was an envelope, pure white and delicately sealed. Gold inscriptions shimred across its surface, forming elegant patterns along the edges.
Grimm raised one gauntleted hand and the envelope settled neatly into his palm as though it had been ant to land there all along. The Cowardly Lion stared as Puck leaned closer, her eyes imdiately scanning the object with interest.
On the front of the envelope, written in ornate golden lettering, was a single word.
Invitation.
"Hm."
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