“So, Azalabulia, do you understand why I have brought you here?” Fenrir asks, bringing out his dramatic voice as he steps in front of her.

He’s gotten good enough with his shifting that he can turn his forearms into the larger and more powerful, fur-covered versions whenever he needs to rather than only in combat.

Azalabulia takes a step back and pulls her staff off of her back. “To rebel against me once more?” she asks.

“I told you that I would teach you about matters you have not experienced, but first, you must prove yourself worthy to me! You must prove that you are the one who deserves my loyalty and my guidance,” he declares.

“Have I not already beaten you once, wolf? I would have thought that being felled by my flames once is enough to deter you from attempting to face me once more.”

“It is true, but I must make sure that you are staying ahead of me. A master that I can defeat is not a master – they are a… a slave!” A bead of sweat rolls down the side of his head, hoping that the pause to think of something didn’t ruin the mood.

“Then let me prove to you once more that I am no slave! I am your master, and you are my hound!” Azalabulia declares, obviously not affected by his previous pause.

This is when Fenrir realizes something.

If they have a battle here… there is a strong chance that the beauty of this little clearing in the forest is going to be destroyed.

What is he supposed to do?

Should he have the battle that he was originally planning on having, thus risking the destruction of this spot’s beauty, or should he think up a new plan to avoid nature’s destruction?

He knows that Azalabulia would be happy to see the forest lit on fire, but he’d rather not destroy this world’s environment. That already happens enough in the real world, so he’d like to see at least one world with intact nature.

“Saya, you should have made me think of that sooner,” Fenrir thinks to his virtual assistant.

“I’m not going to do all the mental work for you, onii-wan. This is your fault that you’re in this situation,” Saya thinks back to him.

“Yeah, but you’re part me, so that means that this is also your fault since it’s my fault.”

“It doesn’t work like that. A kid is part of their parents, but that doesn’t mean it’s the kid’s fault if their parents rob a store.”

“So, you’re saying that you’re like my daughter? That makes our relationship even kinkier.”

“I – I’m not your daughter! Stupid! Baka!”

“How long until you start calling me daddy-wan?”

“I hate you sooooooooo much.”

“Yep. You already sound like a rebellious daughter.”

“Die.”

“I’ll consider it.”

Fenrir looks Azalabulia over.

He knows that she could defeat him if they fight, so it wouldn’t be unbelievable if he lets her win. The problem is whether or not he could put up a convincing enough fight before letting her win. If it’s too obvious, then he might be in trouble.

“I should have asked Olly for planning help,” Fenrir thinks to himself before mentally sighing. “There’s a reason why I always left him in charge of that.”

But, Fenrir knows that this wouldn’t count as a legitimate date—not by his standards—if he let somebody else do the planning for it. Even when it comes to his other girlfriends, he only took some simple ideas from them.

He’s already got her hyped up, too, so he can’t just kill her excitement by changing his mind about the fight.

Then again, she already has an orb of fire growing larger by the second in her hand.

There was that one thing that Nell suggested before he came in-game. He also knows it would be effective based off of previous times using it against Cassiel.

That’s it.

He’s going to use his strongest, dirtiest tactic.

Rather than have anything resembling a real fight, which he never should have planned on in the first place, he’s going to fight dirty and end this before she has a chance to destroy the forest.

“Never let me think that fighting Azawaza for a romantic date is a good idea again,” Fenrir thinks to Saya.

“I’m not your personal reminder, onii-wan,” Saya answers.

“I was honestly kind of expecting you to call me daddy-wan.”

“Die.”

Fenrir smiles and readies his claws.

“Are you ready to see which one of us is the real master, master?” Fenrir asks Azalabulia.

“Come at me, hound,” Azalabulia answers, raising her hand to him.

Fenrir knows that this is going to hurt even with only fifty percent of pain enabled, but all he has to do is survive a single attack from her. As long as he can do that, he’s confident in his plan working.

He hopes.

“Then here I come,” he says.

Fenrir puts all of his speed into one quick thrust forward, leaping off of the ground to fly straight at her!

“Dark Flame Burst!” Azalabulia shouts, holding the fiery orb out to face him.

Several streams of black fire shoot out from the orb, each one crashing directly into him.

Azalabulia’s eyes widen when she notices that he didn’t even try dodging. Rather than be concerned that she’s open to his attack, since she was counting on him at least trying to evade, she’s worried. She doesn’t want to actually hurt him!

And now it’s time for Fenrir’s counterattack.

With his clothes singed and burning, his face cringing from the pain, Fenrir reaches his target and grabs onto her by her shoulders.

“Wh-what are you doing?!” Azalabulia shouts, half-surprised and half-worried.

“This,” Fenrir groans, leaning his head in closer so that he can press his lips directly against her neck to bite and kiss the skin there.

It always worked against Cassiel, and now it’s time to find out whether or not it’s effective against Azalabulia.

He pulls his lips away from her after a few seconds of biting her neck to look her face over.

She’s pure red, her eyes spinning in their sockets as steam escapes her ears, and she drops to her knees.

“Win… y-you win,” Azalabulia mumbles.