(Erza's POV)
I ran with a smile I didn't bother hiding.
The wind slipped past my face as trees blurred at the edges of my vision. My steps were light despite my speed, controlled, measured. A dragon's body was not so easily strained.
That foolish mortal truly believed this was a fair race.
We dragons were not built like humans. Our strength did not fade after a short sprint, nor did our lungs burn so easily. We could run for miles without exhaustion. That was precisely why I had cast the enhancement spell on myself before we began.
He probably thought he was being clever.
I almost laughed at the thought of his expression when he realized he had miscalculated.
I could already hear him complaining.
"That's unfair! You dragons are walking cheat codes! You should've told me sooner!"
And I would answer, perfectly calm:
"Not my problem, mortal. You challenged me."
Perhaps I would even add a condition on bet.
Now that you have lost, you will wash my horns, tail, and wings for a week. And include a proper massage. Three hours a day.
The image of his irritated face almost made me slow down from amusement.
He would absolutely try to plot revenge afterward.
And I would absolutely handle him.
I moved past another old shrine, its wooden frame weathered by years of wind and rain. The forest here was older than the lower paths—less traveled. The air carried the faint scent of moss and damp stone.
Allen was somewhere ahead with Elena. I could hear faint echoes of her laughter drifting through the trees.
Yuuta, however…
He had fallen behind.
On purpose, most likely.
He was stubborn like that—always thinking, always scheming. He probably believed he had discovered some clever shortcut.
I smiled faintly.
Let him try.
Yet, as I crossed a narrow stretch between two stone lanterns, something shifted inside me.
The smile faded.
My steps slowed.
It wasn't exhaustion.
Dragons do not mistake their own limits.
This was something else.
My heartbeat had changed.
Not from exertion.
From instinct.
I stood still, listening.
The forest stretched endlessly behind me—ancient trees, worn stone paths, small forgotten temples resting under layers of moss. Everything looked ordinary.
And yet nothing felt right.
I turned slowly, scanning the path I had taken. There was no movement. No visible threat. Just the quiet weight of the mountain.
Still…
A faint tightening gripped my chest.
Yuuta.
The thought came without warning.
I didn't know why. There was no sound of distress, no clear signal. But the unease grew stronger, pressing against my ribs.
He had fallen behind intentionally. I knew him well enough to guess he had discovered some alternate route and was feeling proud of himself.
Normally, I would let him learn his lesson.
But this feeling—
It wasn't irritation.
It wasn't competition.
It was danger.
And Yuuta had not unlocked his true strength yet. Not fully. Not safely. Beneath all his confidence and reckless jokes, he was still fragile.
If he stumbled into something beyond his level…
My jaw tightened.
I turned and began running back.
This time, there was no amusement in my stride. I moved swiftly, cutting through trees and passing abandoned shrines, lowering my head to catch his scent.
Dragons do not lose what belongs within their awareness.
I inhaled slowly, focusing.
For a brief second, I caught it—faint traces of him lingering in the air.
Then the sky darkened.
Thunder rolled across Mount Fuji, distant but powerful.
A drop of rain struck my cheek.
Another followed.
Within moments, the rain began pouring down in heavy sheets, soaking the forest, washing over stone and soil.
The scent of wet earth rose sharply, overwhelming everything else.
I tried again, breathing deeply.
Nothing.
The rain erased him.
Water rushed down the paths, pooling between roots and steps. It blurred the ground, softened footprints, and drowned every trace of direction.
Even with my senses—
I could not find him.
A strange tightness settled in my throat.
I stepped back and focused, trying to summon my wings.
They did not respond.
I tried again, harder this time, willing the familiar pressure to build along my back.
Pain flickered—but nothing emerged.
I struck my back in frustration.
"Move," I whispered sharply.
And then I understood.
The spell.
Before the race, I had sealed my wings deliberately. I had wanted it to be fair. No flight. No advantages.
I had limited myself.
Now that decision held me down.
Rain soaked through my clothes. Thunder cracked again, closer this time. The forest seemed darker despite the afternoon light, shadows deepening under the storm.
Yuuta was somewhere on this mountain.
Alone.
Injured—my instincts screamed it now.
I clenched my fists.
This was not the time for pride.
I drew in a breath that tasted of rain and moss and fear.
"Yuuta!" I called, my voice cutting through the storm.
The sound echoed against stone and trees before fading into thunder.
Silence answered me.
For the first time since this race began…
I felt something dangerously close to helplessness.
Yuuta's POV)
The rain was coming down like the sky had personally declared war on me.
I was bleeding. My leg was broken—definitely broken, because legs weren't supposed to bend that way. And somewhere in front of me, hidden by the storm and the rising mountain mist, something was there.
I couldn't see it clearly. Every time I tried to focus, the rain stabbed my eyes, and the fog shifted like it was deliberately messing with me.
Too long, I thought. I've been out here too long. This is how horror stories start.
My mind, unhelpfully, started flipping through every legend I'd ever heard. Grandma's winter stories. Late-night campfire tales. That one creepy forum I read at 2 AM and regretted immediately.
Yonku.
The Japanese mountain spirit. They say it appears to lost travelers. They say it attacks strangers who wander where they shouldn't.
My breath caught.
"What the hell did I end up in?" I whispered.
The figure stepped closer.
No way. No way. No way—
I knew I was going to die. Not with dignity, not with a heroic last stand. Just me, alone, bleeding in the mud, about to become a cautionary tale.
"Please don't eat me," I muttered.
The fog swirled. Rain hammered down. The shape loomed.
I squeezed my eyes shut.
Okay. Fine. If this is it, then—
A ridiculous thought surfaced through the terror.
Please, Lord. Take my soul and hide it from Erza. Or else she's going to use it as an undead.
I knew my sister. She'd raise my corpse before sunset just so she could yell at me for being careless.
Warm breath washed over my face. Heavy. Wet. Close.
I kept my eyes shut. This is it. Goodbye, cruel world. Tell Erza I—
Then the figure licked my face.
A long, rough tongue dragged from my jaw to my temple.
"...Huh?"
I didn't open my eyes. Is it tasting me? Is this some kind of pre-meal ritual?
The licking continued. Slower now. Almost... gentle.
No biting. No tearing. Just a very persistent tongue.
Slowly, carefully, I opened one eye.
Then the other.
A reindeer.
A massive reindeer stood over me, its dark nose inches from my face. Its antlers branched toward the sky like something out of a myth, and its large, dark eyes stared at me with what I could only describe as mild confusion.
Like I was the weirdest thing it had found on the mountain today.
I stared at it.
It stared at me.
Then it licked my forehead again.
I laughed.
It started small—a disbelieving wheeze—then grew until I was half-sobbing into the mud, rain pouring into my mouth, my broken leg throbbing, and a reindeer watching me like I'd finally lost my mind.
"Yonku," I gasped. "I thought you were a Yonku."
The reindeer blinked. Snorted. Then—I swear—it looked offended.
"Right, right. My mistake. You're much more majestic than a mountain demon." I wiped rain from my eyes. "Sorry for the insult."
It flicked its ears and took a step back.
Great. Now I'm apologizing to wildlife.
I tried to move.
Bad idea.
Pain exploded up my leg—sharp, hot, wrong—and a sound escaped my throat that was somewhere between a grunt and a scream.
"Ouch—!"
The reindeer startled. Hooves skidded on wet rock. And just like that, it vanished into the fog, swallowed by the storm.
"...Great. Alone again." I let my head fall back into the mud. "Thanks for nothing, Rudolph."
I lay there for a moment, feeling Erza's healing magic working somewhere deep in my tissues. It was slow. Painfully slow. The magical equivalent of watching a pot boil.
I can't stay here all night.
The thought pushed me upright. The slope above me disappeared into fog and shadow. Somewhere up there was the hidden path—the one I'd been following before the ground gave way beneath my feet.
Before I decided to audition for a disaster documentary.
I started crawling.
Hand over hand. Elbow in the mud. Dragging my useless leg behind me like a sack of regret.
I found a root. Pulled.
Fell.
Found a rock. Pulled.
Fell again.
My chin struck the ground. I tasted blood and dirt and rain.
No way.
I pressed my forehead against the cold earth and tried to remember how to breathe.
I'm stuck.
The rain kept falling. The mountain kept being a mountain. And I kept lying there, broken and pathetic, while Erza's magic crawled through my veins at a glacial pace.
"SOMEONE HELP!" I screamed into the storm.
Nothing.
"ERZA! ELENA!"
The wind swallowed my voice.
I groaned and let my head thunk against the mud. This is fine. Everything is fine. I'm just going to die on a mountain, and Erza is going to resurrect me just to kill me again.
A branch snapped somewhere above me.
I froze.
Not hooves this time.
Footsteps.
Human footsteps.
Slow. Deliberate. Getting closer.
To be contiuned.