A Journey Unwanted-Chapter 428 - 417: He’s definitely crazy

[Realm: Álfheimr]

[Location: Quadling Country]

"Hm," Puck said, almost conversationally, though her eyes remained fixed on the sky, "I suppose this is her way of letting you know she’s aware of what you did."

The golden-white javelin tore through the air toward them, its brilliance washing the valley in harsh light. Shadows vanished beneath it. The hills, the trees, even the dust at their feet were swallowed in its glow.

Grimm did not move aside despite that.

"That was quick," he observed calmly. "It would seem she has eyes within her borders."

"Of course she does," Puck replied, her tone sharpening slightly. "I told you she isn’t a witch to underestimate. You caused trouble in her territory. You were always going to get a response."

The javelin grew larger—no longer a distant streak, but a spear of condensed light, throbbing with intense force.

Grimm lifted one heavy, black-gauntleted hand.

"There is nothing particularly impressive about this," he said evenly.

A small orb of white fire condensed just inches before his palm. It rotated tightly, its surface smooth but unstable beneath the layers of overlapping fire.

Puck’s gaze turned from the incoming javelin to the orb.

"...That’s it?" she asked, eyebrows lifting. "You’re countering that with something that small?"

She knew he was capable of far more. Vast, overwhelming displays of destructive force. The restraint was on purpose it seemed.

Grimm did not answer and the orb launched forward.

The force of its release cracked the ground beneath Grimm’s sabatons, a sharp ring of displaced air kicking up dust and sending a shallow fracture through the stone. The orb itself tore through the sky with startling speed, it was a streak of white cutting cleanly toward the massive javelin.

The difference in scale was almost absurd.

For a split second, it seemed laughable, then they collided.

There was no explosion in the traditional sense.

Instead, there was a sudden inward collapse. Light folded in on itself as fire inverted. The two forces met and imploded.

A violent burst of embers and broken shards of light erupted outward in all directions. The shockwave followed a heartbeat later, slamming into the valley with a concussive force that bent grass, scattered stone, and forced the Cowardly Lion to brace himself low against the ground.

Puck shut one eye reflexively as the wave passed through her.

Shards of fading light rained down around them like brittle glass dissolving midair.

Then silence, the glow receded as the valley returned to normal.

"Huh," Puck murmured, lowering her hand from her face. "I honestly thought that spear was just going to punch straight through your fire."

Grimm lowered his arm.

"I adjusted the flame to ignite the light at the moment of contact," he explained evenly. "I did not attempt to overpower it, I merely disrupted its structure." He paused. "I could have matched its strength, if necessary."

Puck looked at him sideways. "So instead of meeting force with force, you decided to detonate it from within."

"Direct opposition is predictable," Grimm replied. "And predictable methods are uninspiring."

She gave a small, knowing hum. "You’re the type who takes the long way around just to see if it’s possible."

"I prefer varied approaches," he corrected. "Relying solely on overwhelming power is monotonous."

"Right," she said dryly. "Can’t have monotony while provoking one of the most powerful witches in the world."

"Experimentation refines one’s understanding," Grimm continued as though she hadn’t spoken. "There is little value in brute repetition."

Puck shook her head slightly. "The scholar side of you is showing."

"Knowledge before power," Grimm said, almost absentmindedly, and began walking again as if nothing extraordinary had just occurred.

"How inspiring," Puck replied, drifting after him. "Maybe put that on a card."

Behind them, the Cowardly Lion remained frozen for a long moment.

The javelin that had threatened to erase them moments ago—gone. Reduced to fading fragments of light that evaporated in the sky.

And the one responsible for neutralizing it was talking. Casually in fact, as if someone had not just attempted to strike him down from miles away. Confusion felt insufficient to describe what he was experiencing.

("Even journeying with Dorothy wasn’t this absurd...!") His legs finally obeyed him, carrying him forward so he would not be left behind. If more attacks were coming—and surely they were—lingering alone in the open valley felt like the worst possible decision.

The Cowardly Lion kept walking, though every instinct in his body questioned whether following Grimm was truly his best option.

Grimm was, without question, insane. There was no gentler way to phrase it anymore. Provoking a powerful witch inside her own territory, countering her warning strike with nothing but a lax attitude, and then continuing onward as if it were all part of a thought out plan—no sane creature behaved that way.

And Puck... Puck was still here. Still floating beside him and still indulging his decisions.

Perhaps she was just as crazy.

"So that’s it," the lion muttered internally. "I’m traveling with two mad people."

Granted, he was no stranger to unusual companions. A sentient scarecrow with more sense than most men. A tin woodsman with more heart than he gave himself credit for.

But unique and utterly unhinged were not the same thing. And something deep in his gut told him that the javelin of light was not the most absurd thing Grimm had ever dealt with.

Nor would it be the last.

His instincts urged him to turn back before something truly catastrophic happened. Grimm would not stop him. Puck likely wouldn’t either.

They would continue forward, indifferent.

("But... I’d still be alone.")

The thought hit harder than he expected, he was no lord now after all. No symbol of courage. Whatever strength he once carried felt distant and hollowed out. He was powerful, yes—but still a cowardly beast at his core.

And they were deep in Quadling territory now. If he left, he would walk alone through this land, under the watch of a witch who had already demonstrated her reach. The idea frightened him, yet walking beside Grimm was not exactly comforting either.

The lion had known true companionship once. Bonds forged with many trials. Laughter, arguments and loyalty.

But that was long ago.

And those companions...

He stopped that line of thought abruptly. His memories blurred when he pressed too hard. Faces came in fragments. A road. A goal. But the ending—what had happened at the end? 𝐟𝐫𝕖𝗲𝘄𝚎𝗯𝕟𝐨𝕧𝐞𝚕.𝕔𝕠𝐦

His brow furrowed as he walked.

("Even so... he feels familiar...") His eyes lifted toward Grimm’s armored back—the red hair trailing behind his helm, the unwavering stride. That faint sense of recognition was the only reason he remained.

In this fractured, decrepit world, familiarity felt like safety—even if misplaced. Grimm’s strength helped, yes. But it was that vague pull, that unexplainable sense that he had seen something like him before, that anchored the lion in place.

Ahead of him, Grimm and Puck continued speaking as though none of this weighed on them.

"So," Puck began, glancing sideways at Grimm, "I’m guessing we’re not marching to the Good Witch’s castle to apologize."

"No," Grimm replied evenly. "There may be something of interest there." He paused briefly. "And it lies further southward. Approaching it may also bring us closer to the border necessary to reach the Heart Kingdom."

"Ah," Puck hummed. "So this isn’t entirely impulsive. At least there’s thought behind it." She folded her armored arms thoughtfully. "Still feels like walking straight into a lion’s den, though. No offense," she added absently.

The Cowardly Lion blinked.

"N-none taken," he muttered.

"There is nothing there worth fearing," Grimm said calmly.

Puck exhaled through her nose. "You really don’t listen to reason, do you? That lightshow earlier? That probably wasn’t her trying." Grimm remained silent. "She was gauging you," Puck continued. "Even so the mana behind that strike was absurdly refined. If she wanted to escalate, that could have looked very different." She drifted slightly closer to him. "And dragons may have resistance to magic, but that immunity isn’t absolute. Right?"

"You are correct," Grimm replied without hesitation. "In my realm, methods were devised to circumvent such nullification. Applying magical force at a rate exceeding the resistance’s capacity to dissipate it. Created by some student." He tilted his helm slightly. "Though this is a simplification. The finer mechanics would likely be lost on you."

"Just call me an idiot," Puck huffed, though there was no real anger behind it. "But that proves my point. Magic is still a threat. Especially if she figures out you’re related to dragons."

"That only makes this more worthwhile," Grimm answered.

Puck frowned. "Worthwhile?"

"Battle," he continued, "often reveals more than conversation." There was no excitement in his voice, only consideration. "My teacher once claimed that true battle was an exchange of hearts and convictions. That one bears them openly upon the battlefield. The one with the stronger resolve prevails." He paused temporarily. "Romantic nonsense once again. Yet intriguing."

Puck gave him a long look. "You’re the last person I’d expect to care about ’heart’ or ’convictions.’"

"The heart is merely an organ," Grimm replied quietly. "And convictions hold no measurable value in a life-or-death exchange." His tone lowered, however it was reflective rather than dismissive. "Even so, many presented theirs to me. They believed their resolve would bridge the gap in strength."

"And did it?" Puck asked.

"No," Grimm answered plainly. "But it strengthened them. Sometimes beyond what logic predicted."

Puck tilted her head. "You find that interesting? People pushing past their limits because they believe in something?"

"It is interesting when viewed outside strict logic," Grimm clarified. "As a scholar, I rarely allowed myself that perspective." He walked a few more steps. "Yet even I have considered what lies beyond calculation."

Puck shrugged lightly. "I don’t see it. If I’m going to be impressed, I’d rather it be by something dramatic or flashy. Not someone clinging to ideals."

"Because you are akin to a child," Grimm replied calmly.

Puck’s eyes narrowed. "Still not rising to the bait."