The smoke continued to spread through the house until breathing itself became difficult.
Every breath burned a little more than the last. The air tasted of ash, wet wood, and hot iron. Shion could feel it settling into her lungs, making each inhale shallower no matter how much air she tried to force in.
The room had stopped feeling like a room, there were only fragments left now. Movements without shape. Sounds without direction, a boot scraping against the floorboards. The brief flash of steel cutting through smoke before disappearing again. The dull orange glow from the hearth somewhere off to the side.
Then the air shifted.
Not heat.
Force.
A sudden gust struck low against Shion's leg hard enough to break her footing. In the open it would have done little more than stagger her, but inside the smoke-filled house, with the floor uneven beneath scattered debris and bodies, it was enough.
Her balance gave out for a moment. One knee struck the floor heavily, the impact rattling through her armor, the attack came immediately after.
Shion twisted on instinct, but too late to avoid it completely. A blade scraped along the side of her shoulder, shallow but rough as it dragged across metal and cloth instead of cutting cleanly.
She heard movement rushing toward her through the smoke.
The greatsword came up low and awkward in the confined space, more shield than weapon. Whoever charged her hit the flat of the blade and stumbled sideways with a curse.
Near the window, the man finally stepped fully into the fight.
Not with haste.
Not with anger.
With control.
He opened one hand toward the room and another gust moved through the smoke. It wasn't strong enough to clear the air anymore. There was simply too much of it now. Instead the wind twisted through the room in uneven currents, pushing smoke aside in some places while thickening it in others.
Enough to interfere. Enough to make footing unreliable. Eren felt it catch her ankle before she understood what happened.
Her foot slipped backward across the wooden floorboards just as a strike came toward her chest. The blade missed where she had been a moment earlier only because she fell first. Instead it scraped across her thigh as she hit the ground hard enough to drive the breath from her lungs.
Pain shot through her leg immediately, the attacker stepped forward to finish it but Shion moved first, or forced herself to.
The greatsword tore sideways through the smoke toward the sound of movement. It wasn't a proper swing. There wasn't room for one. The attacker barely threw himself backward before the blade buried itself into the wall beside him with a loud crack that splintered wood apart.
Too heavy. Too little space. Shion ripped the weapon free with visible effort, the smoke was getting worse.
She drew another breath and immediately regretted it as heat and ash filled her lungs again. Her vision blurred slightly around the edges, not from blood loss, but from the lack of clean air.
Across the room, the man near the window watched them carefully now.
His expression had changed.
Not fear.
Calculation.
Most people should have been slowing already.
Another figure pushed through the smoke toward Eren while she was still trying to rise. Her injured leg almost folded beneath her as she forced herself upright.
The man never reached her, Shion hit him first, not with the sword, with her full weight.
Her shoulder slammed into his chest hard enough to throw him backward into the broken remains of the table. Wood collapsed beneath both of them as they crashed into it. Before he could recover, the pommel of Shion's sword came down once against his face with enough force to silence him immediately.
Then Shion stopped moving for half a second.
Breathing.
Too slow now.
The room tilted slightly around her.
The man near the window noticed it immediately.
Another movement of his hand sent a sharper gust low across the floor. Not meant to throw her this time. Just enough to break balance, Shion's footing shifted.
A knife emerged from the smoke almost at the same moment and drove shallowly into her side before she could fully turn away. She grunted sharply and forced herself backward before the blade could sink deeper.
Eren saw the strike land.
Saw the blood darkening through the fabric near Shion's ribs.
Saw her stance falter for the briefest moment.
And somewhere beneath the smoke, the fear, and the exhaustion, an old instinct surfaced before she could stop it.
Too large.
Too slow.
Too dangerous.
The thought vanished almost immediately, replaced by disgust sharp enough to make her jaw tighten.
But it had still been there. Shion never noticed.
She coughed hard instead, one hand briefly pressing against her ribs before forcing herself upright again.
Another few moments inside the house and they would lose, not because the bandits were stronger, because the room belonged to them. Shion understood it fully then.
The smoke. The confined space. The broken footing.
Everything favored the people already prepared for it.
Her eyes found Eren only because Eren coughed again somewhere through the haze, sharp and ragged.
The hesitation disappeared immediately.
"Move" Shion rasped.
She crossed the distance between them in two heavy steps, grabbed Eren by the wrist, and pulled her toward the doorway.
One of the bandits stepped directly into their path.
Shion didn't bother trying to swing.
She drove straight into him.
The impact threw him sideways into the wall before he could properly raise his weapon. Shion forced forward without slowing, dragging Eren with her through the smoke.
Another figure appeared near the doorway.
This time Eren reacted first.
Her blade thrust low through the haze and caught the attacker in the stomach just long enough to force him backward and open the path ahead.
Cold air hit them the moment the door burst open.
Sharp. Clean. Real.
Shion practically forced both of them out into the clearing before dropping heavily onto one knee, coughing violently as smoke tore from her lungs.
Nearby, Eren braced one hand against the dirt while dragging in painful breaths that burned almost as badly as the smoke itself.
Behind them, figures began stepping out of the farmhouse one after another.
Now, finally, they could see clearly again: Six bandits still standing, two visibly injured, one limping.
The last to emerge was the man from the window.
Without the smoke around him, he looked older than before, harsher around the eyes. One axe rested in each hand now, both already drawn.
There was no friendliness left in his expression.
No disappointment either, only annoyance.
This had stopped being easy for them a while ago.
And every body left inside the house had made it more expensive.
His gaze settled on Shion first, then shifted briefly toward Eren.
"You two" he said quietly, almost to himself "are becoming a problem"
The axes lowered slightly into a ready stance.
Around him, the remaining bandits spread carefully through the clearing now, far more cautious than before.
No one was smiling anymore.