The battlefield waited.
Still.
Heavy.
Expectant.
Then—
Milim stepped inside.
Light.
Almost playful in the way her feet touched the ground.
Except—
There was no playfulness in her expression.
None at all.
Behind her, Clayman staggered in with a grin stretched too wide across his face, threads twitching around him. The fox was dragged along, trembling, while the Demon Marionette loomed behind him like a silent executioner.
Ultima cracked her neck.
Testarossa smiled.
Loki just watched.
'…No way.'
His eyes stayed on Milim.
Sharp and focused.
'There is no way anyone controls her.'
Not Milim.
Not the same girl who laughed in the face of everything.
Not the one who could crush nations by accident.
'So what are you doing…?'
The same thing had happened in the anime as well. But there is no reason for her to pretend right now.
Across the field—
Clayman raised his arms dramatically.
"Do you see it now!?"
His voice echoed, filled with manic pride.
"The strongest existence here. Under my command!"
He pointed at Milim.
"My puppet!"
Carrion's expression darkened.
Frey frowned.
Even Guy's eyes narrowed slightly.
Clayman continued, laughing.
"I didn't even expect it to work!"
That got a few looks.
"What?"
He grinned wider.
"It was a gamble!"
He tapped the shattered remains of the bracelet still clinging to Milim's wrist.
"It wasn't complete!"
"Not perfect!"
"But it worked!"
His laughter rang out again.
"Because I am me!"
Silence followed that.
A heavy kind.
The kind that came when someone said something so absurd it circled back into being dangerous.
Loki exhaled slowly.
Then stepped forward.
"Milim."
His voice cut cleanly through the space.
"Stop playing."
A pause followed.
"This isn't the time."
Milim didn't respond.
Didn't move.
Didn't react.
Clayman scoffed loudly.
"You still don't understand?"
He spread his arms.
"She belongs to me now!"
His grin sharpened.
"Nothing you say will reach her!"
Loki didn't even look at him.
His eyes stayed on Milim.
"…Oi."
A slight tilt of his head.
"Enough."
A beat.
Then—
Milim moved.
Slowly.
Her head tilted.
Her body shifted.
And in the flattest, most painfully forced tone imaginable—
"…I am under control."
Silence followed.
Utter silence.
Carrion blinked.
Frey stared.
Dagruel's brow twitched.
Even Dino opened one eye slightly.
Because that—
That was terrible.
Not just bad.
Not just unconvincing.
It was the worst acting any of them had ever seen.
Milim raised her arm stiffly.
Like a broken puppet.
"I will… fight… for Clayman…"
Her voice didn't even try.
It dragged.
Monotone.
Dead.
Loki stared at her.
Long and hard.
A vein in his temple twitched.
'…Are you serious?'
Milim's eye flickered.
Just slightly.
Just enough.
And that confirmed it.
'…She's messing around.'
Loki exhaled through his nose.
Slowly.
Dangerously calm.
"…You're really doing this right now."
Milim didn't respond.
Still in character.
Still horribly.
Clayman, meanwhile—
Was completely convinced.
"Hahaha! You see!?"
He pointed triumphantly.
"She obeys me!"
No one said anything.
Because no one knew where to even begin.
Loki rubbed his temple once.
Then dropped his hand.
"Alright."
His tone shifted.
Decision made.
"If you want to play…"
He glanced back slightly.
"…then I'll deal with the rest."
Ultima's smile widened instantly.
"Oh?"
Loki's gaze flicked toward Clayman.
"Take care of him."
Ultima stepped forward.
"…Gladly."
Her eyes gleamed.
Sharp and hungry.
Loki turned slightly.
"Testarossa."
She met his gaze.
"Yes, my Lord?"
He nodded toward the fox.
"And the doll."
A brief pause.
"Handle them."
Then—
"…Don't hurt the fox."
That part was important.
Testarossa's smile softened just slightly.
"Of course."
She stepped forward as well.
Graceful and certain.
The fox flinched as her gaze passed over her.
But—
There was something else there too.
Relief.
Faint.
Barely there.
But real.
Across the field—
Clayman's grin returned.
Twisted and confident.
"Do you really think splitting your forces is wise!?"
Loki didn't even look at him.
"…You're not worth my full attention."
That landed.
Hard.
Clayman's expression cracked.
And just like that—
The battlefield divided.
Ultima stepped toward Clayman.
Testarossa toward the Marionette.
And gently—
Toward the fox.
Loki remained where he stood.
Facing Milim.
The air shifted.
Tension rising.
Not from fear.
But from anticipation.
Loki rolled his shoulders once.
"…Let's get this over with."
Milim raised her fists.
Still stiff.
Still acting.
Still terrible.
But the power beneath it—
Was very real.
The battlefield split cleanly.
Three fronts.
Three outcomes already decided.
—
Testarossa stepped forward.
Elegant and unhurried.
Her heels clicked softly against the ground, each step measured, each movement composed.
Before her—
The fox trembled.
Small.
Fragile.
Its three tails swayed weakly, magicules flickering erratically around its body like a flame about to go out.
And beside it—
The Demon Marionette loomed.
Massive.
Grotesque.
Threads binding its limbs, its core pulsing with artificial life.
Testarossa's gaze softened slightly.
"…Oh?"
A small sound reached her.
Barely audible.
A whimper.
The fox looked up at her.
Eyes wet.
Clouded with pain.
"…help…"
It wasn't even a full word.
Just a breath.
A plea.
Testarossa stopped.
Her expression changed.
"…I see."
Her voice was gentle.
Almost kind.
"You wish to be freed."
The fox trembled.
Nodded faintly.
Testarossa's smile returned.
Soft.
Reassuring.
"Then you will be."
A pause.
"After all…"
Her eyes sharpened slightly.
"…my Lord has commanded it."
That was all that mattered.
Behind her—
Clayman's voice snapped through the battlefield.
"Don't you dare hesitate!"
His threads flared violently.
"Attack!"
The command struck.
Absolute.
The fox's body jerked—
Then twisted.
Magicules surged.
Wild.
Uncontrolled.
Its small form expanded—
Rapidly.
Violently.
Golden light erupted outward as its body grew, fur shimmering, tails multiplying in size and presence. In seconds, the small trembling creature became a massive three-tailed fox, radiating unstable power.
Its eyes—
Still pained.
Still resisting.
But forced.
The Marionette moved at the same time.
A massive arm swung down toward Testarossa, threads reinforcing the strike, amplifying its destructive force.
And the fox—
Lunged.
A roar tore from its throat.
Forced.
Agonized.
Both attacks converged.
Simultaneous and overwhelming.
—
Testarossa didn't move.
Not at first.
She watched.
Measured.
Understood.
Then—
She stepped forward.
One step.
That was all.
Her hand rose.
Delicate.
Graceful.
And then—
Everything ended.
A single motion.
A flick of her fingers.
—
The Marionette froze.
Mid-swing.
Its body trembled—
Then—
Collapsed.
It simply… came apart.
Threads snapped.
Core shattered.
Its entire existence reduced to nothing in an instant.
Gone.
—
At the same time—
Her other hand reached the fox.
Two fingers.
Lightly.
Gently.
Touching its forehead.
"…You've suffered enough."
A pulse.
Soft.
Invisible.
And then—
The curse broke.
The threads binding its will snapped like glass.
The oppressive control vanished.
The golden light flickered—
Then faded.
The massive form shrank.
Rapidly.
Until once again—
A small fox remained.
Its eyes cleared.
Confusion.
Relief.
Then—
Tears.
Real ones.
Testarossa lowered her hand.
"…There."
She turned slightly.
Already done.
—
Across the battlefield—
Clayman felt it.
The moment the connection snapped.
His body jerked.
"What—!?"
His head whipped toward the fox.
Then the Marionette.
Gone.
Both.
Gone.
His composure shattered.
"Impossible!"
His voice cracked.
"How, how did she—!?"
In front of him—
Ultima laughed.
Amused beyond measure.
"Ahh…"
She wiped at the corner of her eye as if she might cry from laughter.
"You're really something, you know that?"
Clayman staggered back slightly.
"N-No… that—"
Ultima tilted her head.
Grinning.
"Did you actually think those toys would help you?"
Her eyes gleamed.
Cruel.
Playful and dangerous.
"Testarossa is on a completely different level than you."
Clayman's breathing grew uneven.
His threads flickered wildly.
Unstable.
Ultima took a step forward.
"Don't worry though."
Her smile widened.
"She won't interfere here."
A pause.
Her voice dropped slightly.
"…Unless Lord Loki tells her to."
That reassurance—
Did not comfort him.
Not even a little.
Because if anything—
It meant this.
This nightmare.
This humiliation.
Was entirely his own.
Ultima cracked her knuckles lightly.
"…Now then."
Her eyes locked onto him.
"Round two?"
Clayman's body tensed.
---
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