The crowd looked on as Grub's request settled across the arena like dust after a storm.
Standing in the high seats, the Guardian who had announced his victory gave a slow, somewhat reluctant nod. "So he has chosen. As per tradition, the victor has decided the outcome of his own trial." He straightened his posture and raised his voice. "Grub's verdict is innocent. He will no longer be held prisoner for his crimes."
Grub nodded and took a deep breath. His face ached something terrible and his nose was definitely broken from Morrigan's vicious punches during their exchange. Every inhale sent a sharp sting through the bridge, and the swelling made it difficult to breathe through anything but his mouth.
After the announcement, there were a couple of formalities. Short speeches, procedural acknowledgments, the kind of bureaucratic wrap-up that existed solely so that someone could later claim everything had been done properly. Grub stood through all of it with a blank expression, too exhausted to care about ceremony.
Eventually the crowd began dispersing. Villagers filed out of the stands in clusters, their voices low and bewildered. Grub caught more than a few stares. Most of the gazes weren't friendly. However, some were. One particularly angry guardian looked as though he wanted to throw Grub back into prison immediately. Grub ignored them all.
As he walked out of the arena, Morrigan fell into step beside him briefly.
"Head to my house," the old kappa said, jerking her thumb down the road. "I've gotta talk to the Guardians first, but I'll be there soon."
Grub shrugged but followed her instruction. He watched Morrigan shuffle off toward the Guardian seating area, her bruised face and lopsided flower crown making her look less like a legendary warrior and more like someone who had just lost a bar fight. Which, in a way, she had.
He began making his way through the village as the afternoon sun sat heavy in the sky, warming the dirt road and casting long shadows between the buildings. For the first time in days, nobody was escorting him. Nobody was dragging him or holding his arms behind his back. He was just walking.
"Hey! Mister Grub!"
Luthiel's voice rang out from somewhere behind him. He turned and saw her skipping down the street with a grin so wide it seemed to go from ear to ear. Lu's golden eyes were shining like polished coins as she caught up and fell into step beside him.
"Where are you headed?"
"Morrigan told me to go to your house." He glanced at her. "Not sure why."
Luthiel clasped her mitten-like hands together. "Alright, let's walk together then!"
"Sure."
They walked side by side through the quiet streets. Most of the village was still filtering away from the arena, so the roads were emptier than usual. A few shopkeepers stared from their doorways as the pair passed, but Grub was too tired to care about their expressions.
Luthiel, however, was practically bouncing.
"Your fight was incredible!" Her golden eyes were alight with enthusiasm. "I have never seen Master get outplayed like that! The rocks, the punches, all of it was really impressive."
She paused and her expression shifted to something between amusement and mortification.
"And somehow your final trick actually worked. I still can't believe you did something so vulgar."
Grub sighed through his broken nose. "Don't act like I wasn't wearing something underneath. Plus, knowing Morrigan, I figured that would be the best way to catch her off guard." He rolled his sore shoulder. "I'm just glad I'm not being executed."
Luthiel's bouncing settled. A softer smile replaced the excited grin.
"Me too."
When they arrived at the chief's house, Luthiel walked ahead and reached for the doorknob. Before turning it, her mitten-like hand glowed with a faint pulse of light. The glow lasted barely a second before the door clicked open.
Grub raised an eyebrow as he followed her inside. "What was that?"
"Basic Anima reader on the knob," Luthiel answered casually over her shoulder. "Only recognized signatures can open it."
Grub filed that information away without further comment and stepped through the doorway. The chief's house felt oddly peaceful after the chaos of the arena. Warm, cluttered, and smelling faintly of alcohol. Empty bottles were scattered in their usual positions around the couch like old friends who had overstayed their welcome.
Luthiel disappeared into the kitchen and returned with an assortment of fruits cradled in her arms. She offered a handful to Grub.
"Here you go. I bet you're starving after all of that."
Grub took them gratefully and sank onto the couch. He picked out the juiciest looking one from the bunch and bit into it. Sweetness flooded his mouth and for a brief, blissful moment, everything that hurt faded into the background.
"Thanks."
Luthiel sat beside him on the couch and nibbled on a smaller fruit, her golden eyes watching him between bites. After a while, her expression dimmed. She looked down at the fruit in her hand and spoke carefully.
"That black stuff that covered your hands during the fight. That was Nihil, right?"
Grub wiped juice from his lips. "Yeah. It was."
"Did you kill creatures for it?"
The question landed gently but the weight behind it was obvious. Grub hesitated for a moment before answering.
"Yeah. Last night, after you left the clearing, I went deeper into the forest and killed what I could to gather a little." He turned the fruit over in his hand. "Small animals don't seem to fill me up that much, though. I burned through everything I collected during the fight, so I'm all out again."
Luthiel looked down. Her golden eyes lost some of their luster.
"That's quite a cruel power," she said quietly. "Having to kill just to use your Forte."
Grub shrugged. "I suppose." He took another bite, chewed slowly, and swallowed. "It is what it is. Can't exactly change the way my soul works."
But something had been nagging at him since the match. Something that felt clearer now than it had before.
While he carried Nihil, his mind felt grayer and more clinical. The warmth he had been experiencing over the past few days had retreated the moment the black residue crawled across his skin last night. During the fight, each punch had felt satisfying in a way that went beyond simple tactical success. There had been an urge underneath it. A quiet pull toward something final, that he couldn't quite name.
And now, sitting on this couch with the Nihil completely spent, the gray was lifting again. Colors seemed slightly brighter. The fruit tasted sweeter. Luthiel's voice sounded warmer.
The difference was subtle but undeniable. He felt different depending on whether he had Nihil in him or not.
Yet he just couldn't pinpoint why or how.
Luthiel smiled weakly. "I guess you're right. You can't change it." She looked at him apologetically. "I'm sorry for talking like that. It's just that I love all sorts of wildlife. Every creature has a life, you know? The thought of killing a small, helpless thing just to fuel a power..."
She trailed off and shook her head.
Grub frowned and looked at her face. He stared into Lu's gentle golden eyes and the genuine sadness sitting behind them. Then his mouth opened and words came out before his brain authorized them.
"I get it, Lu. You're a kind person." He looked away. "I'll avoid doing it unless it's absolutely necessary. Okay?"
Lu's expression softened. Her golden eyes glistened faintly.
"Thank you. That means a lot."
Grub had no idea why he had said something so impractical. How was he supposed to stockpile Nihil without killing creatures? His Forte literally required death as fuel. Promising to avoid it was like promising to cook without fire.
But something about Luthiel's face had forced his mouth to speak before his mind could intervene. It felt foreign. Like an impulse that belonged to a version of himself he hadn't met yet.
Lu brightened suddenly, the sadness evaporating as quickly as it had arrived.
"But your fight was amazing! Going blow for blow with Master is no small feat! Even if you look a little worse for wear." She tilted her head and studied his battered face with an amused wince. "A lot worse for wear, actually."
Grub let out a small chuckle. He was a little proud of himself. The victory had been earned through a full night of planning, and every piece had fallen into place. His hand reached up and gently touched his swollen nose. The pain flared immediately.
"The damage certainly isn't little."
He had no issue with any of Luthiel's aspects, but moments like these made El's healing abilities seem particularly valuable.
Leaning back into the couch, he finished his fruit in calm silence and let his thoughts settle. Two days. That was how long he would have had before resorting to the Jangushut plan. Two days before betting his life on a crude jam and a desperate fight with a Lacert messenger. Morrigan was going to remove the bracelet instead, rendering all of that preparation unnecessary. The burns on his arms from the Jangushut experiment almost felt meaningless now.
Almost. But Grub didn't think of it that way. He was someone who built contingencies on top of contingencies. Had things played out differently, that experiment would have been vital. Plans were never wasted just because a better option appeared. They were insurance, and insurance only looked unnecessary until you needed it.
Lu's voice interrupted his thoughts.
"Hey, Mister Grub? What was with that Anima before your final punch?" She fidgeted with her mitten hands in her lap. "My Anima sense can't really pick up your Nihil, so that part didn't feel strange. But the energy radiating off that last hit felt utterly vile." Her golden eyes searched his face. "What was that?"
Grub's expression tightened. He didn't have an answer. Morrigan had reacted the same way during the fight, asking nearly the same question. The Nihil alone hadn't alarmed anyone. But the moment he layered it over his Anima, the entire arena had recoiled. What had been so different about combining them?
"I don't know, Lu. I really don't." He rubbed his knuckles absently. "All I can tell you is that holding the two together felt like forcing water and oil into the same glass. My arm could barely handle it for more than a second."
Luthiel frowned but didn't press further. "I suppose it's fair that you don't know. It just felt really scary."
The conversation drifted back to lighter territory after that. They talked about the fight, about specific moments that had surprised or impressed her, and about the look on Pazuzu's face when the stone hit Morrigan's head. Lu's retelling of the crowd's reaction to the pants maneuver nearly made Grub laugh again.
Then the front door creaked open.
Morrigan shuffled into the room. Her face was still bruised but looked noticeably better than when Grub had last seen her at the arena. Some of the swelling had already gone down, either through natural recovery or her own healing abilities applied on the walk home. A fresh bottle dangled from one hand.
Her other hand was raised, glowing with a faint, steady aura.
The old kappa looked at Grub, then down at the Mgbaaka Maara on his wrist and grinned.
"Let's get that fucker off ya."