"You guys still out here? I thought you'd have better things to do."
Kaelis stepped out into the open, hands in his pockets, eyes casually scanning the small group of armed men waiting outside with their farm tools and makeshift weapons.
"Of course we're still here!" one man barked, tightening his grip on a hoe. "We came for one reason—to get rid of those monsters!"
"Yeah!" another chimed in, voice quivering more from fear than courage. "They're just waiting for the chance to kill us!"
"We should strike first—while we still can!"
Kaelis didn't bother responding. He had no patience for arguments built on ignorance.
Instead, he simply released a sliver of his killing intent—a suffocating, invisible wave that crashed into the men like a storm.
One by one, their eyes rolled back, bodies seizing before collapsing to the dirt with dull thuds.
Foam gathered at their lips as they fell unconscious, their tools clattering beside them.
Behind him, the trio froze.
Ayame gasped, clutching her chest. "What… what just happened?"
Ikoma's eyes went wide. "D-Did you… kill them? How… how could you!?"
Kaelis turned slightly, voice calm and almost bored.
"Relax. They're not dead. Just sleeping off a lesson. I don't waste time arguing with idiots."
The group exhaled in shaky relief—though Mumei's eyes lingered on the fallen men, uneasy at how effortlessly Kaelis had subdued them.
He rolled his shoulders and added offhandedly,
"Though you might want to send someone to pick them up before the train leaves… or just leave them for the kabane to play with."
Ikoma's face twisted. "What kind of thing is that to say?! They're still people! We can't just leave them to die like that!"
Mumei shot him a look. "Ikoma! Are you serious? They tried to attack us! You think mercy will change that?"
"Even if they attacked us, they don't deserve to be eaten alive." His voice trembled, but his conviction didn't. "No one does."
Kaelis let out a short laugh. "Pffft. It was a joke. Don't get all sentimental on me."
Then, with a glance that felt almost pitying, he added,
"But if you want to think it's a 'suggestion,' be my guest. Because when they wake up, they'll be back. With more people. And bigger sticks."
Ikoma clenched his fists. "Then I'll handle them when they do!"
Kaelis smirked faintly, shaking his head. "You do that. But if they come after me again… I won't promise they'll live to regret it."
Without waiting for a reply, he turned and walked back toward camp, golden eyes glowing faintly in the dim light.
The others exchanged uncertain glances before following.
Ayame lingered for a moment longer, gaze shifting between the fallen men and Kaelis's retreating figure, thoughts heavy and conflicted.
…
A few minutes ago.
Kneeling before the campfire's gentle glow, a pregnant woman whispered the final words of her prayer.
The flames flickered softly against her tear-streaked face, reflecting the sorrow in her eyes.
She pressed a trembling hand to her chest.
Thump.
Her heart gave a heavy beat—slower than before.
Drawing in shaky breaths, she rubbed her stomach gently, her voice breaking into a whisper.
"Fate has spoken…"
Her hand lingered over the curve of her belly.
"I'm sorry, child… I'm sorry… Mommy can't bring you into this world."
Her body shook with silent sobs as she leaned forward, hugging her unborn child one last time.
Then—unnoticed by those nearby—her heart began to glow faintly gold beneath her skin. Veins of light spread across her chest.
A darkened hue crept around her eyes and skin, like shadows crawling across the surface.
Her breathing hitched.
Her fingers stiffened.
And then, slowly, she stood.
But it was no longer the same woman who rose.
Her steps were unsteady, her movements jerky.
A faint growl escaped her lips.
She limped away from the fire.
It took only a few seconds before the first gasps rang out.
"—Wait, is that…?"
"That's Miss Shino!"
"No… no, it can't be!"
"Her heart—it's glowing!"
"A kabane! She's turning into a kabane!"
Panic erupted through the camp. People stumbled back in terror, forming a loose circle around her. Children cried, mothers clutched their sons. The air was thick with dread.
"Miss Shino!" someone cried out, as if calling her name could bring her back.
But the light in her heart burned brighter—proof of the infection's completion.
Soldiers rushed forward, blades and rifles raised, forming a perimeter.
"Hold your ground!"
"Don't let her get close!"
"Wait—watch her movements!"
But not everyone listened.
Bang!
A shot cracked through the air.
The bullet struck her arm, spinning her slightly. The glow in her heart pulsed violently. With a guttural roar, she lunged forward in a frenzy—straight toward the nearest soldier.
"Look out!"
He barely managed to raise his blade in time, jamming it between her jaws as she snapped at him—teeth scraping metal.
But claws raked across his arm, tearing flesh.
"Gaaah!"
Another soldier dashed in, kicking her off and raising his rifle.
"Wait—don't!" a girl's voice called out from the distance. "Don't shoot!
Too late.
Bang!
The bullet pierced her glowing chest.
Its light immediately faded and her body slumped lifelessly to the dirt.
For a moment, silence.
Then—the wounded soldier's ragged breathing.
Everyone turned to him.
He stared down at the bleeding scratches on his arm, color draining from his face.
The other soldier placed a hand on his shoulder.
"…You know the protocol."
Despair filled the man's eyes. His hands trembled as he reached for his tanto.
No one spoke.
He bit down on a strip of cloth…
…and plunged the blade into his abdomen.
Blood splattered the ground.
Some of the soldiers stood in silent mourning, heads bowed, while others began giving calm, firm instructions to maintain order.
Moments later, footsteps approached—Kurusu arrived with several men in tow. His eyes immediately swept the scene: the fallen kabane, the dead soldier, the shaken survivors.
"What happened here?" he demanded, voice steady but edged with tension. "Where's the kabane? Any casualties?"
"Ah, Sir Kurusu." One soldier stepped forward and saluted. "The kabane's body is over there… and—one casualty, sir."
He pointed toward the slain creature, then to the soldier who had fallen by his own hand.
Kurusu's expression hardened. He took a slow breath, stepped closer, and bowed his head briefly in silent prayer.
"…I see."
After a moment, he straightened and issued orders in a calm, commanding tone.
"Dispose of the kabane's remains. Give the fallen a proper burial. We can't linger here—check the train's repair status immediately. The longer we stay, the more danger we invite."
He turned to another soldier. "Where is Lady Ayame?"
"I'm not sure, sir. You may want to ask the scouts."
Kurusu nodded curtly. "Understood."
He gave a final glance toward the dead before striding away, already calling out additional instructions as he moved.
The remaining soldiers exchanged weary looks, then returned to their grim work under the fading light.