The current spat them onto the riverbank like broken driftwood. Yoshiya rolled onto the wet earth, lungs burning, vision spinning. Beside him, Omina coughed violently, clutching the damp map against her chest even as her body trembled with exhaustion.
For a moment, neither of them moved. Only the roar of the river and the distant screeches of goblins filled the night. Across the rushing water, shadows flickered—figures pacing, snarling, torches waving. The goblins had not given up.
Yoshiya's hand reached instinctively for his shield… and froze on empty air. His shield was gone, torn from him by the river's current. For the first time since arriving in this world, he felt truly exposed.
"We need… to move," he rasped, forcing himself upright.
Omina tried to push herself up, but her arms collapsed beneath her. Her body shook violently, the backlash of Sword Frenzy devouring what little strength she had left. Muscles ached as if tearing from the inside, her face pale and drenched with sweat.
"Don't… think I can…" she whispered.
Yoshiya clenched his jaw. He raised his wand, muttering Heal. Warm light flowed into her body, then into his own. Cuts sealed, bleeding stopped, but their exhaustion remained. No spell could restore the stamina ripped from their bones.
"You did enough," he said quietly, crouching down in front of her. "I'll carry you."
Before she could protest, Yoshiya hoisted her onto his back. She was light compared to the weight of his shield, yet every step felt like dragging boulders through mud.
He took out the sodden map, unfolding it with careful hands. The ink was smudged but still legible—paths twisting through the forest, one line leading toward Reflynne. That was their only salvation.
And so he walked.
---
The forest was merciless. Roots caught his boots, branches tore at his arms. His muscles screamed with every step. Yet he carried on, Omina's shallow breaths against his shoulder reminding him why he could not stop.
At one point, his throat burned with thirst. He stumbled to the river's edge, lowering himself carefully so Omina wouldn't fall, and cupped water into his hands. The icy liquid ran down his throat, numbing but life-giving. He forced a few mouthfuls to Omina as well, coaxing her to drink.
Later, hunger gnawed at his stomach. Spotting a wild tree, he stopped long enough to pluck a handful of bitter fruits. He bit into one despite the sour taste, sharing the rest with Omina, who weakly chewed and then drifted back into half-consciousness.
Her body shuddered with every breath. Sword Frenzy had given them victory, but at a cruel price.
"Sorry…" she murmured once, her voice faint. "I'm slowing you down."
Yoshiya adjusted her weight on his back, forcing his legs to keep moving. "You saved us. That's all that matters. Leave the rest to me."
Silence stretched, broken only by his ragged footsteps and the distant, fading cries of goblins.
---
Hours bled together. His vision blurred, every step a battle against the pull of sleep and weakness. More than once, he nearly collapsed, but each time he pictured Omina fighting alone and forced himself onward.
At one point, a spark flickered weakly near his cheek. Omina, barely conscious, had raised her hand and conjured the faintest glimmer of lightning. It crackled for an instant before fading.
"I'll… fight again… soon," she whispered, voice slurred with exhaustion.
Yoshiya's lips tightened into something between a grimace and a smile. "Then until then, I'll carry you. Even if it kills me."
---
At last, when his legs could endure no more, light appeared ahead. Dim, flickering, warm. Torches.
The sight of Reflynne's walls pierced through the fog of fatigue like a beacon. Yoshiya staggered the final stretch, boots dragging through dirt, Omina limp on his back. His knees finally buckled as the settlement gates loomed over him.
Shouts rose from the guards as they rushed forward. Yoshiya collapsed to the ground, clutching Omina tightly to keep her from slipping away.
His vision dimmed, his body surrendering at last. The last thing he saw was the glow of safety—the lights of Reflynne—and the faint rise and fall of Omina's chest.
They had made it. Barely.