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~~((The National Chocolate Pudding Day Special -- page 9 of 10))~~
Hector could still sense Chort's spawn across the battlefield, but they had all stopped moving and were looking in Hector's direction. The other servants weren't wasting the opportunity and had started pummeling them or shredding them or freezing them, but Hector had to wonder if any of that was even necessary at this point.

Through the persistent cloud of dirt, he couldn't tell what had become of Chort yet. He was reluctant to believe that the Beast of Lorent was dead, just because of how much of a resilient bastard the thing had been up to now, but on the other hand, that attack would've killed most things that Hector could imagine.

He annihilated the scattered remnants of his metal, including the molten parts, wanting to get a better look, and as the dust began to clear, Chort's hulking, unmoving body came into view.

Hmm.

According to the Scarf, Chort wasn't breathing, but now that he was thinking about it, Hector wasn't sure that Chort had been breathing beforehand, either. It was a being of Chaos or whatever, wasn't it? Did it even need air? Eh, maybe it did. Maybe he was worrying for no reason.

'Agh...'

The voice in his head was familiar, and Hector's attention was drawn to the fallen Sparrow behind him who had begun to stir.

Hector divided his focus again and went over to her, keeping part of his mind concentrated on what the Scarf was telling him about Chort--which at the moment, was nothing.

Pauline moved slowly, attempting to ease herself back onto her feet already.

Hector wanted to help her, but he wasn't sure what to do or even what to say, for that matter.

Her feathers ruffled as she shook her head and turned her avian gaze toward Hector. 'What in the world happened...?'