Aithne gazes out at her men, all worn and tired from battle, their pain and anger seeping out into their countenance. Her heart and head are both pounding, and her mind is racing as she tries to focus on the choices at hand. She closes her eyes for a moment.

In her mind’s eye, she finds herself in the midst of a serene garden, perched on a bench with a book in hand. Aithne reaches out for the refreshing lemonade Meri had made for her earlier, but it seems to have vanished without a trace. Straightening up to look around, she notices a nearby bush rustling unnaturally, despite the absence of wind, piquing her curiosity.

As she approaches the bush, a little girl in a pink dress suddenly springs out and attempts to dart away through Aithne’s legs. Swiftly seizing the girl by the back of her dress, Aithne spots the missing lemonade cup nestled in the child's grasp, which she holds with utmost care to avoid spilling its contents.

"And who might you be?" Aithne inquires.

"I'm Eden- Now let me go!" The little girl demands.

Refusing to release her grip, Aithne suspects the girl of thievery and demands an explanation.

"I'm not a thief!" Eden protests.

"It certainly seems that way,” Aithne counters, pointing at her cup.

Yet Aithne’s annoyance disappears as the girl gazes up at her with wide, innocent eyes. "I was going to give it to the sprites in the garden,” she says without batting an eye.

Aithne finds herself amused by the little girl's frivolity, and a smile plays across her features. She decides to play along.

"The sprites, huh? I didn't realize they were fans of lemonade."

Eden nods her head earnestly. "Oh, yes!” she exclaims, leaning in toward Aithne. “They simply adore it. It's their favorite drink."

"Well, if you promise to return the cup, then I suppose I can release you," she muses.

Spoiler :

Eden's joy is palpable as she beams with gratitude. "Thank you so much! I promise I'll bring it back."

Aithne sets the little girl down and watches as she frolics off towards the garden. As she disappears from view, Aithne's curiosity gets the best of her, and she wonders where Eden has gone. She approaches the bush where Eden had initially appeared, and spots a small opening in the foliage. Intrigued, Aithne crawls on her hands and knees under the dense brush, and squeezes through a part of the wall, an action that seems effortless for Eden.

As she pushes aside the branches, a hidden path is revealed to Aithne. Taking in the view as she steps inside, and her senses are immediately overwhelmed. The plants and flowers around her seem to radiate with a vivid energy, and the air is thick with the sweet fragrance of blooming flowers. The sound of chirping birds fills her ears, adding to the enchanted atmosphere.

Walking cautiously along the divergent path, Aithne eventually reaches a clearing where she finds Eden sitting in front of a small, shimmering pond. Surrounding her are dozens of little creatures, all buzzing around her and giggling with delight.

Eden looks up and sees Aithne, beaming at her with a toothy smile. "You found us!"

Aithne smiles back, and marvels at the sweet, magical picture before her.

"I see you have some friends here," she remarks, walking over to the little girl.

Eden nods enthusiastically. "Yes! They're the sprites I told you about. But you have to promise to keep them a secret."

Aithne is awestruck by the sight of the sprites, a rare and mythical creature she had never seen before. She sits down next to Eden and watches as the sprites dance and play around them. They are colorful, vibrant- a stark contrast to the malevolent fairies that devour the souls of those who remain incorporeal for too long.

Despite her love for fire magic, Aithne had witnessed the devastation that fairies could unleash upon those trapped in the incorporeal realm. They swarmed their victims like a plague of locusts, feasting upon their essence until nothing remained. However, the sprites before her seemed to radiate warmth and kindness. She wonders why these sprites are different.

As the sun begins to set, Aithne realizes that it is time to depart. She bids farewell to Eden and the sprites, urging her to return home before nightfall. The sprites flutter around Eden, their movements almost seeming to echo their agreement with Aithne's warning.

Aithne opens her eyes again, taking in a sharp breath. As she stands guard over the encircled enemies, she carefully weighs her options. Should she take them prisoner, eliminating any potential future threat they might pose? Or perhaps she should eliminate them entirely, an act that would violate her deeply ingrained moral code. Alternatively, she could allow them to go free, but the potential consequences of such a decision loom large in her mind.

Aithne realizes that taking them all prisoner would place a significant strain on her already limited resources, and ending their lives would bring no satisfaction, only regret once the dust settled. But allowing them to depart without consequence would be a gamble- one that could result in further conflict and mayhem.

Aithne knows that she must choose wisely, for the fate of both herself and those under her protection hang in the balance. She takes another deep breath and focuses her mind, determined to make the best decision possible given the circumstances.

As Aithne ponders her options, a woman approaches her. Her eyes are swollen and her face is wrinkled with the complexity of sadness and anger. Aithne knew this woman well- she is Eden’s mother.

"They took Eden's virtue!" the broken mother cries out, her soft voice crackling as she drops to her knees.

"Where is she now?" Aithne immediately asks, keeping her shock suppressed with a hard swallow.

"Billy is taking her to Hayden," the woman replies quietly. "But she wasn't breathing."

The mother’s anguish overflows as she begins to sob uncontrollably, though no more tears streamed from her spent eyes. Aithne's heart breaks for the woman, and she forces the picture of Eden out of her mind.

Her anger mounts.

"Do you know who took her?" Aithne asks, keeping her tone composed, though her concern is still evident.

The woman attempts to respond, but doubles over, holding herself tightly while rocking and sobbing. Aithne knows she can say no more, and she gestures for one of her men to tend to Eden’s mother.

Aithne recalls the warmth of the atmosphere with Eden on the day they met- her simple and pure innocence bringing her such bliss. Her kindly little friend… Aithne’s heart grew heavy with the thought of her suffering. She bites her tongue, again forcing down her grief and rage for now, though her eyes were like a turbulent inferno.

Just behind Aithne, Garson begins breathing heavily. His face contorts into a darkly wolfish grimace under his visor as his fury builds up throughout his tired body. He struggles to control the fiery emotions that rage within him, sensing the depths of the atrocity that has been committed. He knows what must be done.

Aithne softly places her hand on the woman's shoulder. "Rest assured and know this,” Aithne says to the mother quietly, imbuing warmth and empathy in her voice, ”all those who have caused harm to your child will face the full consequences of their actions. I give you my word.”

Atihne turns to her men. Her jaw clenches as she raises her hand into the air.

“KILL THEM ALL!” she declares, her nostrils flaring indignantly. “NONE will be left alive- this is my final judgement.”

She brings her hand down with a swing, signaling to begin.

Though her words were earnestly felt by everyone, many turned to each other to question them.

As the men prepare themselves to act, Garson closes his eyes briefly. In the midst of a moment of stillness, he finds himself lost in thought about a cherished memory he shared with Eden. He had been in a picturesque field, captivated by the vibrant flora, when she approached and seated herself beside him.

As she plucked a sizable flower and adorned his hair with it, her sharp eye caught sight of a glimmering stone.

"Look!" she exclaimed, pointing excitedly. "What's that?"

With a curious expression, Garson retrieved the stone and scrutinized it. "Hm, I'm not entirely sure," he replied, "but it appears to be a magic stone."

Eden's eyes widened with wonder. "A magic stone? What powers does it hold?"

Smiling, Garson placed the stone into her outstretched hand. "Although it may seem insignificant, let's explore its potential. Try channeling mana into it."

With focused intent, Eden closed her eyes tightly and exerted all of her willpower to infuse the stone with mana. Suddenly, a gentle breeze swept through the area, rustling the flowers.

"Amazing!" Eden exclaimed, her eyes sparkling with delight. "It worked! The stone has the power to summon the wind!"

Garson beamed with pride and affectionately tousled her hair. "I'm astonished that you succeeded on your first attempt! You truly possess a natural talent. I believe it may have originated from the core of a flying beast that passed through this area and left behind the stone. What would you like to do with it?"

Eden raised the stone in her palm and extended it toward Garson. "Please, you keep it."

As he reminisced on this enchanting moment, he couldn't help but be reminded of Catherine during her childhood days. Despite being unusually diminutive for her age, Eden exuded kindness, gentleness, and friendliness to all those she encountered- like a small saint.

Garson’s mind just briefly drifts to the defilement of Eden, and all rational thought is obliterated at the onslaught of his wrath. The men standing in front of him metamorphose into monstrous beings, devoid of any right to life.

Aithne’s order reverberates in his head, erasing any semblance of mercy that he may have once harbored. Though he knows that the men before him did not directly harm Eden, their collective actions culminated in an unforgivable tragedy. With a firm grip on his great sword, he prepares to exact vengeance.

Garson is the first to move, his every step shattering the eerie silence that had fallen. Though some of the enemy soldiers plead for mercy, their desperate cries go unheard. Garson's rage is too overwhelming to be assuaged by reason or compassion.

As he charges forward, his comrades soon follow suit, their motivations as varied as their backgrounds. Some are driven by the same seething hatred that fuels Garson, while others act to bring an end to the threat against their homeland from foreign invaders. Many more are simply following orders.

Amidst the chaos and bloodshed, Garson’s mind remains fixed on the unspeakable wrong that was inflicted upon Eden. The visceral satisfaction of each enemy's demise is tempered only by the knowledge that it will never be enough to fully rectify the torture that Eden endured.

His blade cleaves through flesh and bone tirelessly- a relentless slaughter fueled by his indomitable will.

As Clyde approaches the outer wall's gate, his heart sinks at the scene before him. The captive men are being ruthlessly slaughtered without mercy. This is no orderly execution. What he sees is chaos, even worse than the battlefield he just witnessed.

Clyde cries out, begging for the butchery to cease. But his words are drowned out by the screams of the helpless victims, and no one seems to hear him. With desperation fueling his actions, Clyde runs toward Aithne, hoping to stop the massacre.

As he approaches her, Clyde takes in her expression. Aithne's face is twisted with disgust, but it is not from the blood being spilled. Her eyes are locked onto the carnage with resentment as she replays Eden’s violation in her head over and over. Clyde pleads with her to halt the slaughter, but she quickly shuts him down.

"No. Stay silent," she orders him.

Helpless, Clyde stands by and watches as the extermination unfolds before his very eyes. He knows that what he sees is not a battle, for there is no honor in the slaughter that is taking place. It is as though the men are mice, trapped with a cat that prefers to shred its meal before devouring it.

The screams and cries of the men gradually subside, leaving a deafening silence in their wake. Clyde cannot bear to look any longer. He desperately hopes that some of the men might survive, that mercy might have been shown. But as he turns back to the gate, he sees that they have all been killed. The bodies of the men lie strewn about on the ground, their blood seeping into the stones that pave the road, staining it crimson.

Garson strides past the bodies, making his way to the front. In Clyde's eyes, Garson appears to be a demon, with his body covered in blood and gore. The sight sends shivers down Clyde’s spine.

Spoiler :

Garson opens his visor, revealing a face that is no longer adorned with his usual warm smile, but rather one of blackened vacancy. He felt nothing for these men, and still feels nothing after their gruesome deaths by his hand.

"It is done, my lady," Garson reports to Aithne.

"Thank you, Garson. You may do as you wish," Aithne says flatly, dismissing him without making eye contact.

Garson does not reply. He somberly turns away from the battlefield, dragging his feet with his head held low. It is not the actions of hatred he displayed that weigh heavy on him, but rather the loss of Eden.

With things calmer now, Clyde once again approaches Aithne, demanding answers for what he witnessed.

Aithne, unable to evade his questioning any longer, finally reveals the truth to Clyde. She tells him about Eden, and why she had to make the difficult decision to exterminate the men.

Hearing her words, Clyde's preemptive understanding fades.

"You could have just punished the one who committed the crime!" he exclaims.

But Aithne just points to Eden's mother, who is still hunched over on the ground crying, unable to control herself.

"Tell her that, Clyde," Aithne challenges him, understanding just how complex the situation is.

She knew there was no way to catch the perpetrator; if he was a lowly soldier, he would never admit fault. If he was one of status, he would force his subordinate to take the punishment for his action. The only possible way to bring justice was to punish them all, as all their hands were dirty from attacking their home and creating the opportunity.

Clyde pauses for a moment, taking in the grief-stricken mother before pivoting back to Aithne, determined to continue his argument.

"Even so! You could have-"

But Aithne, with little patience left, interrupts him sharply. "Shut it. I'm not in the mood for this. Another word, and I'll send you to your room."

"You could have taken them in, made them slaves, anything else,” Clyde says unrelenting, still determined to make his point.

"Activate Greater Slave Brand. Go to your room and stay there until I say otherwise."

Clyde tries to resist at first, but his resolve is quickly squandered by the brand's powerful compulsion. He defeatedly walks back to the estate, taking the long way around to avoid the remnants of battle. The idea of valor through war that he once glorified has turned into something he despises.

As he approaches the estate, he realizes he must navigate through more carnage to pass. He cannot help but avert his gaze from the lifeless bodies scattered about the entrance. Upon entering the estate, his eyes fall upon Meri, whose appearance is disheveled and distraught.

"What happened, Meri?" he queries with worry.

Meri looks up at Clyde with pained eyes, at a loss for words for a moment.

"Hayden is in a comatose state,” she says finally, though very quiet. “and he has turned a girl into a husk. I don’t know what to do..."

Clyde is taken aback upon learning of Hayden's fate, and his mind races with questions. "What could have caused this? What happened?"

"We suspect that he consumed an excessive amount of mana potions."

"What does that have to do with anything?" Clyde asks, perplexed.

"The potions are derived from the cores of beasts. When consumed in excess, the bestial mana overpowers the caster’s own mana."

"Will Hayden recover?” Clyde asks, fearing the worst. “And what about the girl?"

"I don’t know…” Meri admits, grabbing hold of her apron. “Do you happen to know the whereabouts of Aithne?"

"She’s still at the outer gate."

Upon hearing of Aithne's location, Meri departs without a farewell, her thoughts consumed with concern for Hayden and the afflicted girl.

“If anyone possesses the knowledge to aid them, it is Aithne,” Meri mumbles to herself, as she hurries out.

The mark upon Clyde begins to take effect, compelling him to leave. He makes his way to his quarters and collapses upon his bed, his mind swirling with worry for Hayden and the girl.