A Journey Unwanted

Chapter 479 - 468: The Defier of Realms Interim Conclusion

[Realm: Álfheimr]

[Location: Quadling Country]

[Glinda’s Castle]

"-rimm! Grimm! ...Grimm, hey—snap out of it already!"

The sharp, almost squeaking insistence of a very familiar voice cut cleanly through the quiet, tugging at Grimm’s awareness like a persistent hand refusing to let go. It did not come all at once—it bled in, then clearer, until it was impossible to ignore.

Grimm’s head turned slightly, as if reorienting himself.

Floating there, far too close to his line of sight, was Puck—her small form hovering at eye level, her expression pinched in a way that was distinctly worried.

That, in itself, was odd.

For a brief moment, Grimm said nothing. Instead, he let his gaze drift past her, scanning his surroundings. The vast cliffside stretched out before him once more, the open sky and the distant spread of terrain. Behind him loomed the castle walls where Glinda had brought them earlier.

The same place and the same moment.

("Seems I’m back already.")

The thought passed through his mind without much importance, as if it were simply another observation filed away.

"Hey, Grimm, what gives?" Puck’s voice came again, this time dragging his attention back to her.

He finally focused on her properly—and beyond her, the others.

Glinda stood a short distance away, her posture as composed as ever, though her gaze lingered on him just a fraction longer than what would be considered casual. The Cowardly Lion, as expected, looked just as uneasy as always—nothing new there.

But Puck...

She was the only one whose expression didn’t fit.

There was something unsettled about it.

"What?" Grimm asked, turning fully toward her, his tone as flat as ever.

"What do you mean ’what?’" Puck shot back immediately, one brow lifting as she hovered closer, clearly not satisfied with that answer. "You were just standing there. Completely still. With no reaction when I called you, multiple times, by the way." Her eyes narrowed slightly. "You didn’t respond for a whole few minutes, Grimm."

"I was merely mulling over something," Grimm replied, dismissive as ever, as though that explanation alone should have sufficed.

Puck did not look convinced.

"Mulling over something?" she echoed, her tone sharpening with disbelief. "For that long? Without so much as a twitch? You expect me to believe you were just thinking? Because that didn’t look like thinking, that looked like you were gone."

Grimm did not answer immediately.

Before he could, another voice slipped in.

"Well, as long as Grimm is once more with us," Glinda began, stepping forward with the same grace she carried so effortlessly. A gentle smile rested on her lips, perfectly placed.

Yet her eyes...

Her golden gaze lingered on Grimm, studying him in a way that was not subtle, just a moment too long to be meaningless.

There was something there, something she chose not to speak.

Her smile did not falter, but her eyes remained unreadable, as though she had noticed something she had no intention of voicing.

"My role, for the time being, is complete," she continued lightly, her tone warm. "I shall leave the rest to you. Go on and retrieve that lieutenant of yours, and do be sure to inform me once you’ve succeeded."

Her hand rose, adjusting the brim of her hat with elegance, before she gave a small, almost absent wave. Then, without waiting for a response, she turned on her heel and began to walk away.

Puck watched her retreating figure for a moment, her expression shifting slightly, as if considering whether to call out or not. In the end, she didn’t.

Instead, her attention snapped right back to Grimm.

Her eyes narrowed again, far less willing to let things go.

"So," she started, drifting a little closer, folding her tiny arms as she hovered in place, "you gonna tell me what was so interesting that you didn’t bother responding for so long? Because whatever it was, it had you completely checked out."

"I already told you the reason," Grimm responded, his voice still dismissive, as though the matter had already been concluded the moment he first spoke it. There was no effort to elaborate, just the same flat statement meant to end the conversation before it could properly begin.

Puck rolled her eyes in a slow, exaggerated motion, clearly unimpressed, an action she had found herself doing a tad too much. It seemed Grimm merely had that effect on her, him being too insufferable for his own good.

"As if that’s the real reason," she huffed, folding her small arms as she hovered in place for a moment, her gaze fixed on him with obvious skepticism. "You really expect me to believe you were just ’thinking’ and nothing else? Grimm, I’ve been around you long enough to know when you’re dodging something." She let out a small breath, her tone shifting slightly, less sharp but no less pointed. "But fine, I get it. Knowing you, you’re just going to keep being vague and annoying about it until I give up."

"If you know that much," Grimm replied flatly as he began walking, unbothered by her tone or persistence, "then why bother asking?"

He moved past her without waiting for an answer, his steps steady as he approached the edge of the cliff once more. Puck lingered for only a second before drifting after him, her small form keeping pace at his side.

The Cowardly Lion, who had been standing closer to the edge, stiffened slightly as Grimm approached, then instinctively stepped aside, giving him space without a word. Grimm came to a stop at the cliff’s edge, the vast expanse stretching out before him—rolling land, a distant forest, and open sky.

"You saying that," Puck spoke again, her voice cutting into the brief silence as she hovered just behind his shoulder, "only confirms you were doing something other than just thinking really hard." Her eyes narrowed slightly, suspicion settling in more firmly now. "You don’t just check out like that for no reason."

"Perhaps," Grimm admitted idly, not even turning to face her, his gaze fixed forward. "But that isn’t something you need to know."

There was no resistance in his tone or defensiveness. Just a simple refusal.

Puck exhaled through her nose, a small, resigned sound.

"...Yeah," she muttered, not sounding surprised in the slightest. "That tracks. Figures you’d keep it to yourself." She paused briefly, then added, with a small hint of dry humor, "Here’s hoping that lieutenant of yours is capable of forcing some kind of personality change out of you. Because right now? You’re still being dumb."

She drifted a little closer, tilting her head as she glanced at him from the side.

"So," she continued, more casually now, though the curiosity hadn’t entirely left her voice, "are we heading back to the Great Forest or what?"

"In a moment," Grimm replied simply.

He did not move.

Instead, he looked out over the land below, silent and still. As always, the helmet concealed everything—his eyes, his expression, and whatever thoughts might have been forming behind it.

For anyone else, it might have been frustrating.

For Puck, it was simply expected.

She lingered there for a moment longer before sighing quietly to herself, deciding—wisely—not to push any further. On rare occasions, Grimm offered answers. Most of the time, he did not. This, clearly, was one of those times.

Grimm folded his armored arms across his chest, the small scrape of alloy barely audible as he settled into silence, his attention fixed on the horizon.

The land stretched endlessly beneath him.

("Quite the complicated journey I have.")

The thought surfaced without resistance; there was still much to be done. Finding the Fairy Queen. Crossing paths with dragons—Ddraig, Albion. And now helping that strange, fragmented girl who called herself Alice.

None of it felt like a burden.

If anything, it made things clearer and by extension more engaging.

("This makes for an interesting journey.")

That, at least, was certain.

It made the path worth continuing.

Yet even so, something lingered beneath that thought; there was direction but no true destination. He had a path laid out before him, step by step, encounter by encounter. But at the end of it?

Nothing defined or waiting.

Could something like that truly be called a journey if it lacked an end worth reaching?

Grimm remained still for a moment longer.

("Then I suppose I won’t settle for a single destination.") The conclusion came simply with no hesitation or doubt. ("I’ll make the most out of it instead.")

For now, that would always be enough.

The wind moved across the cliffside, quiet and steady, as Grimm stood at its edge. There was still much to do before deciding on something that did not need to be final, at least not yet.

The wind picked up once more as he retrieved Gier’s feather, examining it.

For now, his current destination would be retrieving his idiot lieutenant. And then have a journey with one more fool by his side.

At least she and Puck would get along.