Donald stood in the center of the ground that had been baptized by artillery fire. His bloated body had vanished, replaced by the appearance of a middle-aged man.
Ordinary, with no distinguishing features whatsoever.
Ausia waved her hand, and the countless weapons floating around them slowly faded away.
The entire space returned to calm. If not for the wreckage everywhere, it would have been hard to imagine what had happened here earlier.
"Chief Commander of The Tide, very impressive."
Donald let out a soft breath and revealed a faint smile.
"You should understand that you are absolutely no match for me." Ausia put away her spear.
"Of course I understand." Donald nodded.
"Then why did you still do this?" Ausia asked.
She did not quite understand. It was like a student at a magic academy trying to challenge an upperclassman. Unless something unexpected happened, the outcome had long since been decided.
"Perhaps there was just a sliver of wishful hope." Donald spread his hands helplessly. "I gambled that you hadn't discovered me, nor discovered the ritual underway. Now, it seems, regrettably, I lost."
Yet there was not much remorse in his tone, only a calm smile.
It was like returning to one's hometown in old age, sitting in a rocking chair placed in the courtyard as yellowed dead leaves drifted down with the wind, slowly telling children stories of one's youth.
Ausia merely looked at him quietly. "You seem... not very angry."
"What is there to be angry about?" Donald asked in return. "This world is simply like this. Failure is failure. There is no need to look for excuses for yourself. That is something only the weak do, merely seeking a path to flee reality for their fragile hearts."
"Not a bad way of putting it."
Ausia lightly clapped