The final volley struck like divine punishment.

Thousands of compressed bolts pierced through the cavern in intersecting lines of magenta destruction. The Troll’s remaining arm vanished first, then its shoulder and finally its chest.

The bombardment swallowed everything behind it, drilling through crystal walls and reducing entire sections of stone into molten slag. A series of deafening explosions overlapped until the entire cavern wall resembled a collapsing furnace.

And lay quietly in the centre of everything, Luka collapsed face-first into the soft mud and jagged rubble.

The Wrath armour shattered apart into dissolving fragments of black-red Miasma, exposing his ruined body beneath.

Torn flesh.

Cracked ribs.

Burnt skin.

His right arm barely resembled an arm at first, before the black fragments slithered, dissolving into a murky liquid that quickly sank into the deformed limb, regenerating at least the shape of a human.

The only thing disturbing the silence was the faint hiss of melting crystals.

There was no Troll.

Rather, what remained of it slowly twitched amidst the burning crater not far from Luka.

Its swollen flesh collapsed inward while corrupted muscle and thick grey skin peeled away like rotting wax. The giant limbs shortened. Bones cracked and reformed.

The chains fell loose with metallic clangs.

Brea’s breathing slowed.

"...What?"

The transformation continued until only a small figure remained curled within the crater.

A girl.

Or at least what used to be.

She appeared dwarven by the shape of her ears and compact frame, though much of her body had been ravaged beyond recognition. Burn scars covered her pale-blue skin, while black veins spread beneath the surface like cracks in glass.

At the centre of her chest sat a glowing blue crystal.

Embedded directly into her heart.

Luka slowly pushed himself upward with his remaining arm.

The moment his eyes landed on the corpse, his expression froze.

"How can this be...!?" His pupils shrank, before taking a second glance, as if hoping the girl would vanish from his sight. "...Why is there a Chimaera?"

Brea immediately looked toward him.

"A what?"

Luka limped forward without answering immediately.

Each step dragged heavily against the stone while blood dripped from his fingertips. His right arm hung uselessly beside him, twitching occasionally as damaged Miasma struggled to reconnect nerves and bone.

Then he finally came beside the corpse, before kneeling.

His atmosphere transformed, causing even Brea to pause on the spot.

A serene expression, neither angry nor disgusted at the scent of burning flesh. Luka gently placed both hands together and closed his eyes.

"...Artificial monsters. Unsavoury beings, created when directly fusing Mana Crystals to normal people," he spoke with a cold, monotone voice until suddenly slamming his left fist into the hard stone. "Disgusting wretches!"

Brea frowned.

"You’ve seen this before?"

"...Yes." His answer came swiftly.

’Too many times...’

There wasn’t a second’s delay as he glanced back at her with a forlorn smile, lacking all sense of the victory they’d fought so hard for.

He gently stroked the blue crystal embedded in the dwarf girl’s chest as it pulsed faintly; there was no mana inside anymore.

"Do you recognise this?" He asked, holding up the large, deformed crystal.

Brea hesitated, but ultimately chose to play stupid, shaking her head in denial.

Luka’s lips trembled, yet remained locked in a faint curve.

"The mana crystals we take from monsters, have you never wondered what might happen to humans or dwarves if they swallowed or had one of these inside them?"

"What!? Never!"

He rolled the warm gemstone along his hand. "There are people who did... and they’ve already succeeded in those disgusting efforts."

The Mana produced inside wild monsters came from the stone in his hand; it acted as both an engine and a conduit for Mana.

Absorbing energy from the air, then refining it within.

’Damn it!’

Luka’s stomach churned. No matter how many times he saw these poor, unfortunate souls, his emotions got the better of him. Even more so now that he was mortal.

Because he still remembered them, these lost souls, thousands of them lost to the unstoppable curiosity of humanity and the arrogance of the elves.

Back when he had still been Lucifer, he fought alongside Galatea against the filthy cult behind these chimaera.

His fingers slowly sank into the cavern floor, curling through the mud.

The experiments.

The underground laboratories.

The screaming, endless wailing and attempts to fuse living bodies with an already condensed Miasma core.

To see a knight sucked dry of their lifeforce in less than a second.

Able to do nothing but watch!

"Luka?"

Brea carefully watched as Luka’s expression distorted, relaxed, contorted and then became eerily calm. Though she couldn’t fully trust him, it was the first time she’d met a man who didn’t treat her differently after seeing her true side.

"...What is he looking at with such sorrow?"

The strange grief hidden deep in his eyes broke to the surface as she approached, carefully avoiding any noise lest she disturb him. "...Luka," she spoke cautiously, "how do you know about something like this?"

He remained silent. 𝓯𝙧𝓮𝓮𝒘𝓮𝙗𝙣𝒐𝒗𝒆𝓵.𝓬𝓸𝒎

His eyes shifted to her figure, but there was no soul, no humanity within them.

Bloody veins and lines criss-crossed along their surface as two streams leaked down his cheeks, a single but overwhelming display.

"You don’t have to—"

Rumble!

The cavern rumbled softly at the entrance.

Dust drifted down from the massive hole his Inferno had blasted through the ceiling.

Then distant noises echoed from above.

Voices.

Movement.

Probably the knights.

"Lord Luka?!"

"Master!"

Brea finally stepped closer, her enormous axe resting over one shoulder. Despite the intimidating size of her transformed body, her expression had softened considerably.

Especially when her eyes lowered toward Luka’s ruined arm.

"...You absolute idiot."

Suddenly, Luka let out a weak laugh through his nose and his mood recovered.

"That’s rich coming from the woman who tried wrestling a lightning Troll head-on."

"Hmph. Well, it seems they’re coming to save us."

She crouched beside him carefully. The leather armour on her body appeared to have adjusted to her shape when she transformed, but due to combat, there were places slightly damaged and torn.

Luka’s eyes lingered on her chest, a size that normal women couldn’t achieve, his dreary blood pumping faster once again awakening him from his sombre mood.

The leather creaked from their massive size and delightful weight.

For a moment, neither of them spoke as if hesitant to end this moment.

Eventually, Luka glanced sideways.

"That transformation..."

Brea blinked.

"What about it?"

"You turned into an Ogre, is that your true form? It’s quite beautiful, especially in battle."

A faint flush appeared across her dark-red skin almost instantly.

Brea stared at him in silence, her body visibly quivering for a second before she finally snapped out of it and covered her face with both palms.

"...Tsk, you damn..." she grumbled some untranslatable words into her palms.

"Also, those chants were quite fun. Did you come up with that yourself?"

His eyes narrowed slightly with a playful curiosity.

He enjoyed how different she had become from the brutal woman he had seen in battle, though he was unaware of what made her so shy.

Brea suddenly looked oddly uncomfortable.

Which was bizarre considering she’d spent the last hour splitting monsters apart with a giant axe while half-naked.

"It isn’t anything special," she muttered.

"Heh, don’t take me for a fool. I know Divine Miracles when I see them, though not the highest order to be able to create them as an Ogre no less! That’s an amazing feat, and I bet even the divines would be proud."

He knew this because he used to be one!

Brea folded one thick arm beneath her chest before speaking more quietly.

"The chants are a form of projection. A customised hymn."

"Hymn?"

Luka stared at her with a curious grin.

Brea avoided eye contact.

"It sounds embarrassing when said aloud."

"So you basically convince yourself you’re stronger?"

"It’s more refined than that!" she snapped immediately before lowering her voice again. "...Though fundamentally similar."

"I imagine an ideal version of myself... then force that strange squishy energy inside me to align with that image, even though it tries to resist and backfires if I lose focus."

"Is it bad? The backfire?"

"Mhm... when I first tried it and received a backlash... here look."

"W-What!?"

Luka’s cheeks flushed red as Brea quickly pulled down her shirt, revealing a deep, dark red scar along the top of her breasts. Though he noticed the scar, the biggest and most memorable sight was something else.

’Her nipples and areola are huge!’

"!!!!!" Upon noticing what his eyes became fixed on, Brea’s skin darkened a shade as she quickly covered herself up. "P-Perverted human!"

She fastened the thread tightly, nodding when done before she coughed.

"Ahem! The true divine beings can manifest miracles with a gesture. Some can alter reality with mere thoughts or a glance."

Her eyes lowered toward the crater left by Luka’s attack.

"What I do is childish by comparison; wasn’t what you did a divine miracle itself?"

Luka remained calm before he laughed at her. She seemed confused at his reaction, so he shook his head quickly and corrected her, "No, I cannot use the Prana or divine miracles... because I am impure."

"...Impure, you dare call yourself that when before a Templar?"

"Heh, what Templar?" he smirked, before leaning a little closer, "You’re different, right?"

Brea froze slightly, her eyes darting from side to side as if she had discovered something dangerous, but then she glanced down at herself and sighed.

"Ah..."

Then clicked her tongue and looked away.

"...Flattery doesn’t suit your face."

"Really?" He pointed to his face with both fingers, with a shocked expression. "This Face?"

Brea slowly turned back, her cheeks bright red as if on fire.

"Y-You know what I meant!"

Their eyes remained interlocked for several seconds before Luka’s face twisted slightly.

"Kh—!"

Blood dribbled from the corners of his mouth.

His body finally gave out completely.

Brea caught him before he could collapse sideways.

"...Luka!"

The moment she grabbed him, she stiffened at the heat leaking from his body. So hot a faint steam leaked from his nostrils with each breath. When she stroked his forehead, she recoiled as it felt like touching overheated metal.

The remnants of Wrath still crawled beneath his skin like tiny black veins.

"...You really are a monster," she whispered.

However, there was a subtle softness lingering in her rough, Ogre accent.