Liam sat there, his gaze locked onto Mize, eyes slightly widened in surprise.
It wasn't just the scene, the breathtaking display of life blooming across the battlefield, the golden shimmer in the air, or the way the cursed souls had ascended, finally free.
No, it was more than that.
Mize himself.
The way he had floated in the air, hair cascading endlessly, a midnight ocean woven with stars.
The way his dress shimmered, flowing like the stars.
The way his voice wrapped around the world and commanded it to bloom.
'I see… The path of a Goddess of Flower Divinity? Soul? Or perhaps… '
Liam's gaze softened, his appreciation deepening, lips curling at the edges before he simply murmured.
"Beautiful."
The word slipped out before he even realized it.
Mize, now drifting downward, met Liam's eyes briefly, a small glint of amusement flickering across his ruby irises.
He landed softly, exiting his Goddess form, and without hesitation, burrowed himself into Liam's embrace.
Like a cat.
His arms wrapped around Liam's neck, his body settling comfortably into his lap, his warmth seeping into the Yama Lord's chest.
"I freed them from their suffering," Mize said, voice lighter than before.
It carried a hint of quiet satisfaction, the kind that came from knowing he'd done something good.
Something meaningful.
His lips stretched into a wide, childlike smile as he nuzzled into Liam's collar. "I did great, right, Liam?"
Liam exhaled a soft chuckle, fingers already threading through the silky strands of Mize's hair, pressing down gently against the back of his head.
"You did great," he murmured, his touch slow and deliberate, a silent way of letting Mize know just how much he meant those words.
For a moment, Mize simply closed his eyes, sinking further into the warmth.
He had never felt this light before, as if a weight, one he hadn't even realized he'd been carrying, had been lifted.
Those souls, those innocent ones, the way they had smiled, the way their sorrow had melted away…
Mize had only intended to let flowers bloom.
He hadn't expected the souls to appear, hadn't known his abilities even worked that way.
His profession was strange, almost limitless in potential, but he still had no idea to what extent.
He sighed softly against Liam's chest.
Liam, still caressing Mize's hair, tilted his head slightly. "That lullaby… how come I've never heard you sing it before?"
Mize opened one eye, shifting slightly so that his legs dangled off the side of the throne's seat.
He swayed them freely, his dress having grown longer during his transformation.
Oddly enough, it was comfortable, despite its unnatural length.
"Well, Mr. Perverted," Mize huffed, placing extra emphasis on the title, "if only a certain someone didn't sexually harass me in the mornings, then maybe I could've sung my favorite lullaby at night."
Liam blinked, then smirked.
"Ah? So it's my fault?" He chuckled, fingers trailing along Mize's ears, tugging gently at the soft tips.
Mize immediately jolted, swatting at his hand.
"And here I thought you liked it when I tease you," Liam mused, golden eyes gleaming. "You certainly don't seem to mind most of the time."
"As if," Mize scoffed, turning his head away.
Unfortunately for him, the slight twitch at the corner of his mouth and the faint flush dusting his ears completely betrayed his facade.
Liam caught it instantly.
Mize could feel his gaze lingering, amused and all too knowing.
His lips pressed into a thin line. "I was just living my life properly without the teasing."
"Sure," Liam said, completely unconvinced.
His fingers reached out again, pinching Mize's ear, pulling just enough to make him let out an indignant squeak.
"I guess we'll move on to the next stage of flirting after this," Liam hummed.
Mize stiffened.
"Huh?"
His head snapped back, eyes narrowing.
"What does that even mean?"
Liam, however, simply smiled, offering no further explanation.
Instead, he leaned back into the throne, watching Mize with quiet amusement before smoothly changing the subject.
"In all honesty, I prefer you looking like this."
Mize frowned. "Like what?"
Liam didn't answer right away.
He simply continued to run his fingers through Mize's hair, the warmth of his touch lingering longer than necessary, before finally murmuring.
"Just like this."
"I-I see... So you prefer me this way, huh?" Mize stammered, his voice shaky, his face tinted red from Liam's unexpected words.
The lingering warmth of the transformation still clung to him, the traces of his Goddess form stubbornly refusing to fade.
His hair, now even longer, cascaded over his shoulders in glossy waves, while his dress shimmered slightly, stretching down to brush against the throne's platform.
"And just for your luck," Mize huffed, twirling a lock of his hair around his finger, "despite me canceling my Goddess form, the hair and the dress changes are still intact…"
He paused, then with a sudden burst of energy, he rose from the seat and spun lightly in place, his long sleeves trailing through the air, his fingers pinching the hem of his dress and waving it lightly to make the fabric flutter.
"You're lucky to have someone as pretty as me," he declared proudly, his nose lifting slightly. "And soon, I'll be much prettier!"
The smugness was practically dripping off his face.
Arms crossed over his chest, his entire posture radiated self-satisfaction.
However.
Liam tilted his head slightly, still smiling, but the next words that left his mouth carried a slightly questioning tone.
"What do you mean by 'you'll become much prettier'?"
Mize's entire body froze for a second.
Liam's gaze sharpened, his playful yet scrutinizing eyes locking onto the slow panic beginning to creep into Mize's expression.
"Is that some sort of hidden remark? Or a hint I need to pick up on?" Liam mused, tilting his head further, watching as Mize stiffened. "Or… are you referring to your profession ability? The Path of the Goddess is one of the most mysterious professions, after all. I wouldn't be surprised if you possessed some ability that enhances your appearance."
"Ah... ah, yes! That!" Mize hurriedly straightened, his arms flailing slightly before clasping them behind his back.
The slight stuttering in his voice, the forced ease in his expression, and the way he nodded a little too fast, it all screamed guilty conscience.
But Liam, watching this with amusement, decided to let it slide.
"For a second there, it almost seemed like you were hiding something," Liam remarked, leaning back slightly, his elbow propped against the armrest.
Mize let out a dramatic sigh of relief. "That's exactly what I meant!" he quickly added, flashing a strained grin.
However, just as the atmosphere started to settle.
Liam's gaze, far too casually, flickered downward.
Mize felt it before he even heard the words.
"Is there a way to make this bigger?"
It was such an innocent-sounding question, spoken with absolute sincerity.
And yet.
Mize's eye twitched.
His forced grin strained even harder as he turned, painfully slow, to glare at Liam's shamelessly curious face.
A moment of heavy silence passed.
Then.
"Ask that again, and I will slice your balls off with a knife. Slowly."
Liam's self-preservation instincts activated immediately.
His entire body recoiled back against the throne, spine straightening as he swiftly nodded.
"Roger that," he responded, voice tight.
The threat was very real.
After all, Mize could very well be the type of person to bring a knife to bed, only to 'accidentally' slip it a little too close to his little brother.
Better to live another day.
Clearing his throat, Liam refocused, smoothly redirecting his attention to their next destination.
The group moved once again, the vast shadow army shifting forward in disciplined waves.
The once slow and arduous journey into the secret realm had now become a speed run on their way out.
And then, finally.
Their bodies passed through the dissolving dome barrier.
The cool sensation rippled through their forms, the briefest whisper of magic brushing over their skin before fading completely.
The world outside greeted them, its desolate landscape a stark contrast to the chaos they had left behind.
Beneath the throne, the army reassembled into their neat formations, surrounding them like a sea of shadows.
Liam tapped the side of his armrest, summoning the map into the air before him.
His fingers slid across the screen, dragging the view.
"Now then," he began, casting a casual glance downward. "Where was the direction you wanted to go again?"
Mize, standing at his side, didn't hesitate.
"Here."
His finger pointed swiftly, his expression composed, but Liam could sense something off.
The map hovered between them, flickering with various markers.
From Liam's perspective, it just seemed like Mize had chosen a direction at random.
He didn't question it at first.
The army shifted, their movements seamless as they veered north, marching in unison.
Behind them, the secret realm crumbled, its presence dissolving into nothing, as if it had never been there in the first place.
The journey, however, quickly turned into something… strange.
Bizarre, even.
And it wasn't because of any external factors.
No.
It was Mize.
At first, Liam simply followed along, leading the army as usual.
But then, something started to feel off.
The directions… kept changing.
Once.
Twice.
Three times.
Each time, Mize would point another way, first veering left, then right, then back again, without any proper explanation.
It wasn't too suspicious at first.
But after the fifth time, Liam finally stopped in place.
His golden eyes flickered down at the little feisty cherub standing beside him.
"...Mize," he started slowly, his tone half-expectant.
Mize blinked up at him, all wide-eyed innocence.
"Yes?"
Liam's gaze narrowed slightly.
"Why do you keep changing directions?"
Mize stiffened.
He had not been prepared for Liam to question it.
"Uh…"
The gears in his head turned.
A million excuses spun in his mind, but none of them felt convincing enough.
Think, Mize, think!
And then.
Like a stroke of divine intervention, a strategy formed.
His eyes shimmered.
His bottom lip trembled.
His shoulders curled inward, his fingers gripping the hem of his dress.
A deep inhale.
And then.
Mize's eyes watered.
A perfect, pitiful teary expression took over his face, his entire being radiating distress.
And just like that.
The points were rapidly increasing again, 97, 271 points!
He was one step closer to his goal.
Liam, now thoroughly bamboozled, exhaled slowly, his lips pressing into a thin line.
The expression on Mize's face was so perfectly executed, so flawlessly tragic, that Liam couldn't even bring himself to question it further.
He gave in immediately.
"...Fine," he sighed, rubbing his temple. "Have it your way."
And thus.
An absolutely ridiculous scene began to unfold.
A massive shadow army, a rolling tide of darkness, marched through the wasteland.
Sometimes they went left.
Sometimes they went right.
Other times they circled the same area twice.
Some of the tier 3 battle mages stationed near the throne exchanged silent, pleading glances with their Lord, begging for this suffering to end.
But Liam…
Liam had long since surrendered.
'Don't look at me as if I am the one who's at fault'
But you are, Sire!!!
All he could do now was silently endure Mize's tantrum while fulfilling his princess's very specific wishes.