The walk through the market could not have ended worse.
The encounter between Sir Sergi and Obed was heating the air. The cowardly lion curled his lips into a forced, threatening grin.
His mouth stretched just enough to reveal his unnaturally sharp teeth as he restrained the overflowing murderous intent aimed at a single person in the market.
Obed.
"So you're still alive…" he murmured. "What a disappointment."
Obed did not answer, nor did she avert her gaze from the man who began pacing impatiently back and forth, like a predator stalking a juicy prey.
"As the saying goes, if you want something done right, do it yourself," the knight in lion armor spat.
He opened his jaws in a way that was almost unnatural for a human. Ozu was surprised his jaw didn't dislocate from the gesture, but that surprise was quickly drowned out by a sound that could not possibly come from a man.
A powerful roar.
Animal. Bestial. Primal and violent, it shook the air of the market like an invisible explosion.
The few trees trembled, the stones beneath their feet quaked, and everyone standing before that dreadful roar could do nothing but instinctively cover their ears. Both George and Ozu clutched their ears, and even those farther away in the market were forced to shield themselves from the brutal shockwave.
Everyone… except Obed, who did not retreat, staring straight at the savage man.
Ozu, unfortunately, was not so lucky.
The sound pierced his small body like a spear. His rabbit ears were far more sensitive than a human's. The pain drilled so deep that he genuinely considered smashing his head just to stop hearing that torture.
But his body reacted faster than his mind.
He couldn't endure it.
The world began to spin, and before he realized it, he dropped to his knees, dizzy and with his vision blurred.
For an instant, he nearly passed out, but he bit down on his lower lip to stay conscious, unaware that his large teeth were causing real damage.
After blinking his distorted vision several times, he witnessed the beginning of a clash worthy of legends and fairy tales.
Sir Sergi had drawn his sword… if it could even be called that.
It was not a common blade.
It was a massive black greatsword, so wide and heavy it looked more like an iron slab than a weapon with an edge, made to crush rather than cut. Its dull surface absorbed the emerald light of the surroundings, as if rejecting it.
With both hands and tremendous force, he swung it at the witch, who remained utterly unfazed.
"Think carefully, lion," she said calmly. "What you do now cannot be undone."
Sergi ignored her.
With a growl, he launched his first attack.
The greatsword descended violently toward the emerald witch. Ozu tried to move forward, staggering, but tripped clumsily. His head was still spinning, and coordinating even a few steps felt like torture.
Ozu closed his eyes. He didn't want to see the outcome of the frontal strike.
Then he heard it.
CLANG!
Slowly, the little rabbit opened his eyes, only to freeze in shock at the sight before him.
Before the blow could reach Obed, a wooden sword intercepted the black blade.
Lord George had drawn his weapon to protect his mistress.
The force of the impact cracked the ground beneath his feet, yet the scarecrow stood firm. He could almost feel the straw hidden beneath his mask of normalcy bursting in his legs from the strain.
"Why?!" Sergi roared, confused, stunned, and even angrier than before. "Why did you betray us, straw man?!"
His eyes burned with blood-soaked fury, met only by a calm, solemn expression.
"Why do you support the witch?"
"And why do you attack the one who saved you?" George replied.
Rage twisted the lion-man's face. A reddish aura began to seep from his chest, like gas expelled from his jaws, spreading across his neck and jawline. Little by little, his features sharpened, growing more feline. Within seconds, his fangs emerged in a rabid snarl.
George did not step back.
On the contrary.
He inhaled and exhaled. From his straw hat, a calm presence began to spread like mist—a faint, golden-yellow, ethereal aura that enveloped his entire body.
Ozu, despite his ignorance of this "magic," could see the difference. Sergi's raging crimson spikes clashed against George's gentle waves, who remained in complete control of the situation.
Sergi leaned forward, straining. Gradually, his muzzle stretched in an unnatural way as he sniffed the air around George, drawing dangerously close with brazen confidence.
"I see…" he growled with a cruel, sarcastic grin. "So that's why."
"Why is that?" George replied.
"You FUCK with the witch!"
Ozu couldn't process what had just happened, but the lion already had his massive greatsword raised high. He still gripped it with both hands, though unbalanced and with panic etched across his face.
George attacked.
His wooden sword moved at a speed impossible for Ozu to follow. In a single thrust, it struck the lion's mouth engraved on Sergi's breastplate. The impact sent the massive knight flying backward several meters in an instant.
Before he could regain his balance—
CRASH!
A powerful thrust struck again, unpredictable, hitting the exact same spot, creating a small crack and dent in the armor. George hurled Sergi into the air, drawing an uncontrolled roar from him.
The lion-man spun midair… and like a true feline, landed on his feet.
His boots sank into the ground as his chest heaved, drawing breath.
"Good," he said. "You've improved a lot, George."
"Or perhaps you've grown much weaker, Sir Sergi," the scarecrow replied, resuming his stance.
Sergi did not yield.
He charged like a beast, swinging the greatsword as if it were a massive iron bar. Each movement could have shattered a wall. Yet George dodged every strike flawlessly, spinning with elegance, demonstrating absolute control over the wide corridor.
And he didn't rely solely on defense.
Every time the greatsword struck the ground, George countered with precise blows to wrists, knees, and neck, further enraging the lion, whose appearance was now almost completely transformed. His swollen hands bore imposing black claws, and his reddish mane cascaded down his back.
Despite George's apparent control, Sergi refused to fall.
With a brutal charge, he forced the scarecrow backward.
As if everything had been planned, the lion did not strike George directly. Instead, he smashed the ground with his sharpened weapon, tearing up the yellow tiles beneath them.
George lost his footing instantly.
There was nowhere to fall.
He tried to use his sword as a cane, but it was too late.
For the first time, the lion had him pinned.
Sergi lifted his gaze and smiled sadistically.
George calculated every possible escape, but the terror in his eyes revealed the truth: there was no way out from the greatsword about to crush his skull.
They did not expect what came next.
Not even Obed, who was on the verge of intervening, saw it coming.
From a blind spot—
A small albino child leapt forward.
Glowing red eyes.
A tiny hand wrapped in emerald radiance.
"Where the—?!"
Ozu struck the lion's jaw with all his strength.