A Journey Unwanted-Chapter 457 - 446: Danger

[Realm: Álfheimr]

[Location: Quadling Country]

[Glinda’s Castle]

("I suppose I should have foreseen this much,") Glinda thought idly as her golden eyes moved between the two figures now locked in a silent contest. Grimm still stood unmoving, his horned helm betraying nothing, while Snow met him without a hint of hesitation, her pale face unreadable. It resembled a staring contest in the simplest sense, though with one face entirely obscured, it became difficult to see who was actually winning.

Glinda shared a glance with Alexandria, her guard captain, who let out a restrained sigh that carried more concern than it let on. In response, Glinda simply grinned and gave her a small, reassuring thumbs-up, as if the situation were nothing more than a mild inconvenience rather than a potential clash between two dangerous individuals. Alexandria, for her part, did not look convinced in the slightest.

"I think we’re all rather tired now, no?" Glinda began lightly, her tone smooth and still infuriatingly light, though it carried a firmness that did not waver. She stepped just slightly forward, enough to place herself between the two once again. "And I would very much rather not have any sort of fight start within my castle, you know? It would be terribly inconvenient, and quite rude besides."

Snow’s brows drew together ever so slightly, the smallest crease forming as her attention shifted away from Grimm and toward Glinda. "My apologies," she said after a brief pause, her voice softened, though the stiffness in it suggested it was more restraint rather than sincerity. "I suppose I was merely... surprised at seeing..." Her gaze turned back to Grimm for the briefest moment, that scrutiny returning in full force. "...something like that standing so casually within these halls."

"He’s peculiar, yes," Glinda replied without missing a beat, her smile never faltering, "but he is still a guest. And that, I think, is the more important detail here."

The words were simple, almost gentle-sounding, but their meaning settled heavily. Snow understood it immediately. There was no ambiguity in Glinda’s stance—status, rank, and power meant little in this moment compared to the rules of her domain. No matter how significant a Mortifer might be, she would not be permitted to act against someone under Glinda’s protection.

Snow’s lips pressed together, the tension in her posture easing by a fraction. Even if the armored man before her felt wrong—unnatural in a way that stirred something close to instinctive disdain—she knew better than to act recklessly here.

A small exhale slipped past her rosy lips, she looked at Grimm once more, holding that gaze for a moment longer than necessary before giving a short, restrained nod toward Glinda.

"I understand," she muttered, the words low but clear to hear.

"Good," Glinda said warmly, her smile brightening just enough to soften the atmosphere. "Then let us move along, shall we? I’ll continue showing you to your room." She turned smoothly, her attention shifting as though the tension had never existed at all. Before leaving, she glanced back at Grimm and Puck. "And we shall have our talk tomorrow. Do look forward to it—it would be such a shame if you didn’t."

Grimm responded with nothing more than a low grunt of acknowledgment, the sound ambiguous—somewhere between agreement and indifference. Puck, in contrast, gave a small nod, her expression more attentive despite everything.

Glinda offered one last pleasant smile before moving past them, her steps unhurried. Alexandria followed close behind, still casting a wary glance over her shoulder. Snow and her Legatus fell in line soon after, though not before the Mortifer allowed herself one final look at Grimm. It lingered—if looks alone held power enough to wound, it would have been lethal.

Then, just like that, they moved on. Walking down the expansive hallways.

The hallway seemed quieter for it, though the air still held the tension of what had just passed. The confrontation had been brief—barely more than an exchange—but it left an impression.

Puck’s shoulders sagged slightly as she let out a long breath, drifting down just enough to level a dry look at Grimm.

"You really should watch that mouth of yours," she said, her tone filled with mild frustration but not lacking concern. "You can’t just talk to a Mortifer like that as if they’re some random passerby. That’s not how that works, you know."

"There was no danger to me," Grimm replied, his voice flat and certain, as though the conclusion required no further thought or explanation.

Puck raised a brow at that, her expression shifting into scrutiny. She studied him for a moment, trying to decide whether that confidence came from genuine awareness or simple disregard.

"Well," she said slowly, "I guess I can’t entirely blame you for not knowing just how dangerous a Mortifer actually is. It’s not exactly common knowledge to someone from a whole other realm."

"Then do your job as a guide and inform me," Grimm said dismissively, the words coming without hesitation, as though it were the most obvious solution.

Puck blinked, then narrowed her eyes slightly. "Wow," she muttered, crossing her arms. "A ’pretty please’ would be nice. You know, something resembling basic politeness? Maybe even a hint of gratitude?"

She waited.

A second passed.

Then another.

Grimm said nothing.

Puck held the silence for a moment longer before rolling her eyes with an exaggerated sigh. "Right. Of course. Why did I even expect that?" she muttered under her breath before continuing aloud. "Fine. I’ll explain anyway."

She drifted a little closer, her tone shifting into an informative one, though still laced with a bit of annoyance at his attitude.

"Mortifers are part of an organization—different from the Quaesitorum in what they actually do. It’s called the Retorta Guild. They’re not just some small group either, they’ve got a lot of reach, influence, resources, and armies, even. Real ones. Bigger than some kingdom’s."

Grimm listened without interruption.

"Even fairies know about them," Puck added, glancing at him as if to emphasize the point. "That should tell you something about how widespread their reputation is."

"I see," Grimm said after a moment, his tone thoughtful in its own way. "But I suspect there are more interesting aspects to them than mere scale."

"Obviously," Puck replied, spreading her small arms wide as if to illustrate the size of it all. "They’re a huge group. That’s kind of the point."

"Seems small."

Puck stared at him.

"...Har, har," she said flatly after a beat, lowering her arms. "How funny. Truly. I’m amazed you didn’t laugh at your own joke."

"Is there anything more of note about these Mortifers and their guild?" Grimm asked, brushing past her earlier remark as though it had never been said. His tone remained almost uninterested on the surface.

Puck let out a small breath through her nose, half amused and half exasperated at being so cleanly ignored. Still, she answered.

"Other than the fact that they’re insanely powerful and just absurd in general?" she began, her expression changing slightly as she tried to put it into proper words. "I mean, it’s not just their strength. It’s reputation too, everything about them is crazy. Honestly, just being a Mortifer alone is enough to make most people think twice before even looking in your direction wrong. You don’t mess with them. Not unless you’ve got a death wish or you’re just not sane."

She paused briefly, giving Grimm a sideways look, her pink eyes narrowing just a fraction.

"Though," she added slowly, "something tells me you wouldn’t care much either way. You don’t really strike me as the type to be intimidated by reputation or common sense."

Grimm said nothing.

Puck huffed lightly before continuing, folding her arms as she hovered alongside him.

"Still, it also depends on rank. That one we just met? She’s eighth out of ten, which doesn’t sound that impressive at first glance, but trust me, even the lower-ranking ones are ridiculously strong. There’s no such thing as a ’weak’ Mortifer."

"I see," Grimm replied after a moment, his voice unchanged, as though the information had been acknowledged and filed away without much thought. "I’ll keep the organization in mind in case it becomes interesting."

The dismissiveness in his tone made Puck’s brow twitch slightly.

"I’m gonna go ahead and hazard a guess," she said, her voice dipping into a more thoughtful tone, "that you’re going to find them interesting a lot sooner than you think."

She trailed off, her expression shifting as the memory of the earlier encounter resurfaced more clearly.

"Still," she continued, "that Mortifer, she definitely had it out for you. Like, really had it out for you. You saw that, right? She looked like she was one second away from attacking you outright if the Good Witch hadn’t stepped in."

"Perhaps," Grimm said, his pace steady as his armored steps echoed along the corridor, "her apprehension stemmed from the fact that I lack mana."

Puck tilted her head, considering that.

"I mean, yeah, I guess that’s weird," she admitted. "Like, really weird. You’re basically the only thing I’ve seen that just doesn’t have any. It’s unnatural, sure, but..." She shrugged lightly. "I don’t know. It doesn’t feel like that big a deal? Not enough to jump straight to hostility like that, anyway."

"Maybe," Grimm murmured, though his tone carried no real agreement or disagreement. "It matters little. It wasn’t particularly interesting to explore."

Puck gave him a long, flat look.

"Of course it wasn’t," she said dryly. "Why would something like that ever be interesting to you?"

She shook her head lightly, letting out a small sigh before drifting a little ahead of him.

"So," she went on, glancing back over her shoulder, "you still wanna explore the castle? I mean, we could keep going, but honestly, I don’t think we’re gonna run into anything topping what just happened. A random cloaked woman asking for help with the moon, and then a Mortifer nearly picking a fight with you? That’s kind of a high bar."

"We’ll retire for now," Grimm said, cutting through her train of thought. "I have an inquiry for the Good Witch, but that can wait until tomorrow." There was a brief pause before he added, more simply, "And I could do with some sleep."

Puck blinked, then narrowed her eyes slightly, drifting back down to his level.

"You’re actually going to take off your armor this time, right?" she asked, her tone shifting into a more judgmental one. "Because I’m still stuck on that. It’s kind of weird that you sleep in it. I mean, who does that?"

"It serves to be cautious at every point," Grimm replied without hesitation, as though the answer was self-evident, his stride never faltering as he continued down the hallway.

Puck stared at him for a moment, unimpressed.

"Uh-huh," she said flatly, clearly unconvinced, before following after him anyway, her small form drifting along at his side.