The following day, Tsurugi assumed the role of a patient, if somewhat taciturn, guide. He showed Evelyn more of Grimgar, not just the military might, but its heart. He introduced her to the concept of his brother, Seiji, the quiet, determined leader who had built this refuge from nothing. He spoke of the other leaders—the noble Riveria, the fierce Logan, the wise Orias, ...—and the shared persecution that bound their people together. He explained the empire's rot, the king's tyranny, and Grimgar's purpose: not to conquer, but to offer a alternative, a place to live free from oppression.
Throughout it all, he gently, but firmly, suggested she stay. Returning to the Holy Temple was no longer an option. To reinforce this, he shared the intelligence gathered by his scouts. The Pope had officially declared that Saint Evelyn and her entire retinue had been tragically slain by a dragon during their holy mission. She was already a martyr, a closed chapter in the Temple's history.
The news was a final, shattering blow. Evelyn collapsed to her knees in the middle of a bustling market cavern, the vibrant life around her fading into a gray haze. The symbol of the faith she had devoted her life to had not just betrayed her; it had erased her. The foundation of her identity crumbled into dust. She was adrift, an anchorless ship in a suddenly hostile sea.
Tsurugi didn't offer empty words. He simply stood by, a solid, silent presence amidst her storm of grief. He gave her time. He gave her space. And he gave her protectors, ordering Ddraig and Albion to keep a discreet but watchful eye on her as she wandered the caverns, a ghost in white robes.
That night, over a private dinner with Seraphina, the Harpy queen watched him with her ancient, knowing golden eyes. "You are troubled by the surface-walker," she stated, her voice melodic.
Tsurugi grunted, pushing his food around his plate. "She has nowhere to go."
Seraphina reached across the table, her slender fingers covering his. "My love, the heart of a predator is vast. It can hold many territories. I will not object if you claim another. Her song is one of purity and light. It is… a different melody from mine, but not a dissonant one." Her words were not of resignation, but of a deep, feral understanding. She saw the bond forming not as a threat, but as a strengthening of their pack.
Tsurugi was stunned into silence, looking at the fierce, beautiful creature who understood him in ways no one else could.
For several days, Evelyn wandered Grimgar in a daze. She saw the Dwarves' relentless industry, the Elves' gentle magic, the Beastmen's raw honesty. She saw a society built not on dogma and hierarchy, but on mutual survival and respect. It was messy, loud, and alive. And slowly, the gray haze began to lift, replaced by the vibrant colors of a new reality. She had a choice: to be the Holy Temple's dead saint, or to become Grimgar's habitant.
Her decision made, she sought out Tsurugi. She found him at the main training grounds, a whirlwind of crimson and silver as he drilled a unit of Lizardmen in coordinated attacks. He was a different person here—all sharp commands and relentless precision, the Grand Marshal in his element.
"Lord Tsurugi," she called out, her voice firm despite her nerves.
He finished a critique of a soldier's stance and turned. His red eyes found hers, questioning.
"I need to speak with you. Privately," she said.
He gave a curt nod. "Hinomaru!" he barked. His vice-commander, a massive Ogre with a face like weathered granite, snapped to attention. "Take over. Push them on the flanking maneuvers."
Hinomaru grunted an acknowledgment.
Tsurugi led Evelyn away from the din, into a nearby chamber carved from the rock. It was a tactical briefing room, with a large stone table etched with a map of the surrounding territories. He closed the heavy, reinforced door, and the world outside fell away, leaving them in a pool of quiet, orb-light.
What was said in that room remained a secret between them. The words spoken, the vulnerabilities laid bare, the final surrender of a past life and the embrace of a terrifying, exhilarating new one—all of it was sealed within those stone walls.
However, the physical culmination of that private conversation was not entirely contained. A short while later, Hinomaru approached the door, a scroll of troop readiness reports in his hand. He was about to knock when he froze. His large, pointed ears twitched.
From within the room, clear and unmistakable, came a rhythmic, wet sound of flesh meeting flesh with passionate force. It was punctuated by muffled, fervent cries—Evelyn's melodic voice, strained with ecstasy, and Tsurugi's low, guttural growls.
The stoic Ogre's eyes widened a fraction, a monumental expression for his kind. He stood frozen for a full ten seconds, processing the auditory evidence of his commander's very un-strategic activities. Then, without a sound, he turned on his heel and marched stiffly away, a faint, uncharacteristic blush creeping up his thick, green-tinged neck. The report, he decided, could wait.
The next day, Tsurugi brought a radiant, if slightly shy, Evelyn to see Seiji in his command center. Riveria was there as well, going over supply manifests.
"Brother," Tsurugi began, his voice carrying a note of unshakable finality. "Evelyn has decided to join Grimgar. Officially. And she will be my second wife."
The scroll Seiji was holding slipped from his fingers and clattered onto the stone desk. He stared, his mouth slightly agape, before he had to grab the edge of the desk to stop himself from stumbling backward. Riveria looked up, a graceful eyebrow arched in mild surprise, a small, knowing smile playing on her lips.
Seiji took a moment to collect himself, then turned his full attention to Evelyn. "Saint Evelyn… are you certain of this? You understand what it means? The life of comfort and reverence is gone. Here, there is only hard work and constant danger."
Evelyn met his gaze, her celestial blue eyes now filled with a hard-won resolve. "The comfort was a gilded cage, and the reverence a lie. My eyes are open now, Lord Seiji. I choose the hard truth of Grimgar over the beautiful lie of the Temple."
Satisfied with her conviction, Seiji gestured for her to wait outside. The moment the door closed, he rounded on his brother.
"Tsurugi, a saint joining us… the implications are massive. It could inspire others within the Empire who are faithful but disillusioned. But it also makes us a direct, blasphemous threat to the Holy Temple's authority." He ran a hand through his hair. "You have to understand our positions now. We are the two pillars holding up this entire nation. You are the Grand Marshal, I am the Grand Leader. Our decisions can't be impulsive. The survival of thousands depends on us. By bringing her here, you've ensured that when we finally step onto the world's stage, we'll have three powerful enemies aiming for our heads: the Demon King's army, King Arthen's empire, and now the entire Holy Temple."
Tsurugi listened, his arms crossed, his expression unyielding. "Don't worry," he said, his voice low and steady. "I know exactly what I'm doing. And when have you ever seen me come out on the losing end of a decision I've made?"
Seiji looked at his twin, seeing the same fierce, unshakeable confidence that had carried them through countless childhood scrapes, now magnified a thousandfold by the power of the Strizier. He saw the strategic mind that had devised the dragon diversion and the protective ferocity that had eliminated a cardinal without a second thought. He let out a slow breath, a wry, resigned smile finally touching his lips.
"Fine," Seiji conceded, the weight of leadership settling back onto his shoulders, now a little heavier. "It's up to you." The die was cast. Grimgar's destiny was now irrevocably intertwined with that of a fallen saint and the brother who had claimed her.