A Journey Unwanted

Chapter 474 - 463: Curiosity is innocent

[Realm of Little Alice]

Little Alice was still glaring at him—holding onto that look with an intensity that, at first glance, might have seemed fierce.

Though ’fierce’ was being far too generous.

Up close, with her lips pressed together and her brows slightly furrowed, it felt less like hostility and more like a stubborn, contained pout. Her bright, deep blue eyes—unnatural in their clarity—failed to convey the intended emotion. Instead of intimidating, they revealed her youth and lack of composure.

"Glaring does nothing," Grimm said after letting the silence stretch just enough to make the moment uncomfortable, his tone still flat. "If you’re going to direct that much attention at me, you might as well do something with it. Perhaps try something interesting—like attacking. At least that would justify the effort you’re putting into that expression."

"As if I would have to resort to violence so quickly, or so cheaply, just because you provoke me," the young girl replied, her voice tight as she turned her gaze to the side, as though even looking at him directly had become something she refused to indulge.

"Hm," Grimm hummed, tilting his head just slightly as if recalling something. "You seemed ready enough for violence the last time we met. You didn’t hesitate then."

"That," Alice snapped back immediately, though still not looking at him, "was simply because you were being a dullard of the highest order—deliberately so, I might add. Anyone would have reacted the same way."

"Perhaps," Grimm answered, almost idly.

The ease of that agreement made her pause.

Alice blinked, the reaction small but impossible to ignore. For a moment, her irritation faltered because that was not the response she had expected. In their brief history, extremely limited as it was, Grimm had already established himself as the kind of person who would double down, not concede even the smallest point.

Yet here he was, agreeing. Casually.

It unsettled the rhythm she had built in her head.

Still, she recovered quickly, drawing herself up as she folded her arms tightly across her chest, posture straight and chin slightly raised as she forced her composure back into place. Her gaze returned to him, even if a small tension lingered at the edges.

"You are self-aware, at least," she murmured, her tone quieter. "That much I will concede, even if it pains me to do so. But a real gentleman—someone with even the barest sense of decency—would follow that awareness with an apology. Especially after calling a young lady ’uninteresting’ so casually."

"Good thing I’m not a gentleman," Grimm replied without hesitation, the response was unembellished.

Alice’s expression twitched—just slightly—as she resisted the urge to roll her eyes outright. It would have been beneath her, she told herself. Or at least, she tried to convince herself of that.

She took a small breath instead, steadying herself, reminding herself—again—that she was meant to be composed, above this sort of petty back-and-forth.

But with Grimm standing there, speaking as he did, existing as he did, that composure felt like something constantly under siege.

"You need not remind me," Little Alice muttered under her breath, her voice low but clear enough to carry. "You make that painfully obvious with every word you choose to speak."

She shifted slightly, brushing a strand of golden hair away from her face with care, as if reclaiming some measure of control through the small movement.

"But we are getting off track here," she continued, her tone regaining a degree of control. "This conversation—if it can even be called that—was not meant to devolve into this sort of trivial exchange."

"Still interested in Iofiel’s request of me, hm?" Grimm deduced, as if the shift in topic had been expected all along.

"Mere idle curiosity on my part," she replied quickly, almost too quickly. "Do not presume to think I care to any meaningful extent. I simply find myself questioning that rather troublesome Goddess’s judgment—specifically, her decision to entrust something of that nature to someone like you."

She let that linger, her gaze steady as she watched him carefully.

"Hm," Grimm responded, the sound thoughtful but difficult to read. "Then it seems this is simply a case of you underestimating my power."

Alice quirked a brow at that, she shifted her stance slightly, one foot adjusting against the grass while her posture remained otherwise immaculate.

"Are you truly that foolish," she asked slowly, "that you genuinely believe you could slay either Albion or Ddraig? Do you even understand what you are implying when you say something like that so casually?"

"Admittedly," Grimm began, his tone unchanged as his gaze drifted past her, toward the horizon stretching endlessly before them, "if both of them prove to be mightier than the Greater Dragons of the past, it may introduce a slight problem."

A slight problem.

Alice’s eyes narrowed, just a fraction.

That was not hesitation or doubt.

If anything, it sounded like an inconvenience.

She studied him again, more carefully for good measure, searching for something—uncertainty, arrogance, anything that would ground his words in something she could dismiss. But his posture did not shift and his tone did not waver.

It irritated her more than she cared to admit.

"Do you honestly think you can win?" the little girl pressed.

"You’ll see," Grimm answered.

Vague. Infuriatingly so.

Alice frowned slightly, her thoughts turning inward despite herself.

("Is he truly that confident in his own power?") she wondered, her gaze lingering on him. ("He’s a big, insufferable idiot, so it would be easy—convenient, even—to assume this is nothing more than empty pride...")

Her fingers tightened slightly against her arms.

("...but something about that doesn’t quite fit.")

She exhaled slowly, her eyes narrowing just a bit more as she continued to study him.

He had stood before her before—fully aware, at least in part, of what she was capable of—and yet he had not bent, not hesitated and not even attempted to temper his words.

That was not normal.

That was not reasonable.

And above all else, that was not safe.

("He challenges me without fear, even now,") she realized. ("Even knowing what I could do to him, to this entire space, to everything.")

Her frown deepened.

("Insanity...") The word came unbidden. ("...truly is something frightful.")

She really needed to regain some composure, so she spoke.

"It will be quite amusing," Alice began, her lips curling into a small smirk as her gaze drifted slightly past him—as though she were already watching the outcome unfold somewhere beyond the present, "to see either dragon eventually force that so-called confidence of yours to bend, or perhaps even break. I do wonder what expression you would make when confronted with something that does not yield to you."

Her eyes turned back to him, sharper than before.

"If not them..." she continued, her voice softening just slightly, though the intent behind it did not lessen, "then there are other playmates who would be more than willing to do so. You may not have met them yet, but a certain cat—an insufferably cryptic one—may have already mentioned them to you in passing."

"I recall," Grimm replied simply, his tone suggesting he was untouched by the provocation that had been so carefully placed in her words. "Though if I am to be honest, meeting those other two feels like something that lies far further along my path." He paused for a brief moment, as if considering the thought more seriously than he let on. "Even so, when that time comes, it should be interesting enough to warrant the wait."

Alice watched him for a moment longer than necessary.

"You truly are simple," she said at last, though there was no sharpness in it, no bite meant to wound. It came out more like an observation, as though she had reached a conclusion she found difficult to dispute.

"Hm," Grimm responded, the sound indistinct, neither agreeing nor rejecting her words. "But I recall something else. You knew Ddraig, didn’t you?" His head tilted slightly toward her. "What is it? Were you concerned enough about that dragon that you felt the need to summon me here and ask indirectly?"

"Hmph," she exhaled, a small, irritated sound as she turned her gaze away again. "As if I would go that far for something so trivial. Do not flatter yourself."

Her tone sharpened just a touch.

"Ddraig would never lose to you," she stated, more firmly now, almost too firmly. "In comparison, you may as well be nothing more than a ruffian—loud, unrefined, and utterly lacking in real power." She lifted her chin slightly as she spoke, reinforcing the claim. "Especially with the state he is in now..."

The last part came quieter.

And for just a brief moment, the certainty she had held so tightly seemed to waver. Her eyes shifted to the side again, as though she did not wish for him to see that moment of uncertainty.

Grimm did not comment on it directly.

Instead, he spoke as if continuing a line of thought rather than pressing her.

"The Good Witch mentioned he dwells within the Abyss," he said, recalling the earlier conversation. "The deeper layers—the place from which real demons originate from, or so I’ve been told. Though, admittedly, my understanding of that space is limited at best."

"It is a nasty place," Alice replied immediately, her earlier composure replaced with a more visceral emotion. Her brow furrowed as if the mere thought of it was enough to sour her mood. "A place that festers and breathes decay. It is filled with things that should not exist, things that crawl and twist in ways that defy reason. It is putrid." The word left her with clear distaste. "Even the strongest beings would find that place oppressive."

("Sounds interesting,")

Grimm noted it internally without any visible reaction, the thought settling as calmly as if she had described something mundane. If anything, it only added another destination to a list he had yet to fully define.

"Yet despite that," he continued aloud, "some still regard Ddraig as a threat. Which would suggest he has not merely survived within that environment but adapted to it and has grown stronger because of it."

"You would be right," Alice admitted with a small nod. "That is precisely why your boasting amuses me as much as it does." A small, haughty smile returned to her lips, though it felt thinner. "You speak as though you stand on equal footing with something that has endured a place like that. It is entertaining, in its own way."

"Hm," Grimm exhaled softly. "They do say brats tend to find rather dumb things amusing."

"I am a young lady!" Alice snapped immediately, her earlier composure cracking once more to let the irritation through. Her eyes locked onto him again, bright and intense despite the clear frustration behind them.