“I’m sorry.” Eugene hung his head in contrition and made no move to defend himself. He was all too aware that when Anise was in this state, there was no use in attempting to excuse his behavior. Any other person might have tried to offer some feeble justifications, but Eugene knew better than to waste his breath. Instead, he knew his only option was to apologize immediately and without reservation.

Anise's voice was laced with incredulity as she asked Eugene, "Do you even comprehend what you have done wrong?"

Despite the three distinct curves on her face — the upturned corners of her lips and the crinkles that were her eyes — an unmistakable aura of menace emanated from her. Eugene couldn't help but tremble with fear, even though he couldn't see her eyes clearly, which were narrowed into a crescent shape. He was intimately familiar with the frigid and piercing glare that lay concealed behind those half-closed lids.

“Ehem…” Molon cleared his throat suddenly, with no particular reason other than to break the tension in the room. As a fellow man and a warrior, he felt a sense of obligation to come to Eugene's defense and placate Anise's ire. But as soon as Anise turned her beaming gaze towards him, with a slight tilt of her head, Molon found himself holding his breath, uncertain of what to say next.

Molon had endured the full brunt of Anise's wrath for far longer than Hamel had three centuries ago. Or rather, it was more accurate to say that Anise had borne the greatest suffering on account of Molon's recklessness. Every time Molon charged forward like an ignorant buffoon, heedless of the danger behind him, Anise would be compelled to follow in his footsteps, all the while unleashing a torrent of curses that could make even the most hardened warrior flinch. Whenever Molon wielded his axe and hammer wildly, Anise was left with no choice but to immediately perform her miraculous healing abilities to mend Molon's injuries.

Molon's remarkable bravery and unwavering fearlessness had enabled him to lead countless...