In the mid of the thick fog enveloping the caravan, Garin trembled like a dry leaf.
Hunched in the corner of his wagon—the very wagon that had become his curse—his yellow eyes darted in terror, straining to catch movement in the dense mist.
"No, no, this can't be real…" he whispered to himself, fingers nervously twisting and untwisting.
"This wasn't supposed to happen at all."
He glanced at the large barrel in the center of the wagon—the one sealed with a Koshin Seal…
His damning evidence.
He'd been so certain of his cleverness—
Convinced that smuggling Kora Stones to the capital would multiply his profits tenfold.
"A calculated risk…" he'd told himself.
But now, in the heart of this chaos, he realized his calculations had ignored the sheer madness surrounding him.
"Selfish? Maybe… but who isn't selfish in this world?" he tried to justify, though the nearby howl of a wolf sent shivers through his bones.
Jon's words still burned in his ears: *"I feel it's you and your Kora Stones causing this."*
He wished the wolves would only attack Jon and leave him alone.
He thought of fleeing—but to where?
The fog trapped them, yet the wolves moved through it freely.
He wasn't foolish; he was knowledgeable, even cunning.
"Why me?" he muttered inwardly.
That greed he'd mistaken for commercial genius had led him here.
A distant explosion of Kora shook the air.
He flinched violently, clutching the edge of his elegant cloak and pulling it tightly around his thin frame, as if he could hide from a reality hunting him without mercy.
His cherished elegance now felt like bitter mockery—fine black clothes in the middle of a muddy forest.
A merchant who thought himself smarter than all, now about to become wolf food.
"If only I'd known…" he whispered, but didn't finish.
The truth was—he had known.
He knew the danger of the Kora Stones.
He knew Kalu had strictly forbidden transporting them on this journey.
But he'd believed himself clever enough to slip through.
He spun around at a nearby sound—his breath turned ragged, his frail heart pounding like a mad drum.
"I have to run… I have to find somewhere to hide…"
He scanned the fog, but every direction looked identical—
Gray, cold, filled with snarls.
Yet he knew wandering meant eternal loss.
The thought of dying in this fog—his body slowly rotting, undiscovered—made his sweat turn icy.
"Why didn't I listen?" The question haunted him like a ghost.
Why hadn't he stored the stones in Little New Viaco as Kalu ordered?
Why hadn't he settled for reasonable profit?
Greed. Always greed.
That beast in his chest had been hungrier than ever this time.
Shameful tears slid down his cheeks.
He wasn't crying for others, nor with true remorse…
He cried for himself—for the darkness his own hands had cast over his fate.
"I'll confess everything…" he trembled. "I'll give Kalu all my stones, all my profits—just let me escape this nightmare."
Yet even in this moment, a part of him schemed:
*How many stones can I keep hidden? Can I salvage some profit from this disaster?*
His greedy nature remained unchanged.
Suddenly, a metallic tearing sound split the air.
He turned—eyes widening in horror.
One wolf had leapt onto the metal barrel, jaws sinking into it.
Then two… three… four…
They ripped through the metal, scattering Kora Stones everywhere.
But they didn't look at Garin.
*Heh… heh… I—I'll survive!*
Garin laughed hysterically in his mind, convinced the wolves hadn't noticed him…
But then, to his right—he saw it.
Two crimson eyes glowing like embers from hellfire.
Garin froze. His mouth hung open in a scream that wouldn't come.
He saw the blood-streaked fur, the bared fangs, the coiled muscles ready to pounce.
"No… please…" his trembling lips whispered.
The wolf ignored his pleas.
It was starving. It was furious.
And this time, no one would protect him.
Garin noticed the fog thinning behind the beast—but he had no time to hope.
The wolf leapt—
***
"What's going on here? What is this barrier?"
"Fog? Are we inside Kona Fog?!"
Imenata awoke to the startled, confused voices of women.
She looked around the tent—Zofia and Sonia were gone; only little Sofia still slept.
Gently, Imenata patted the child and tucked her in before stepping outside to assess the situation.
The moment she emerged, she understood.
A strange barrier surrounded the women's camp—a transparent, yellow shield.
Imenata recognized it instantly: *Koshin Barrier.*
Beyond it, the fog was so thick nothing could be seen.
"What…?" she murmured, then approached the huddled group of women holding torches.
"What's happening, Miss Elena?"
Elena turned, saw Imenata, and ran to her immediately.
"Mrs. Imenata! We don't know what's happening either—we woke up and found this just… here."
Imenata took a deep breath, her eyes absorbing every detail—but concern broke through her calm:
"Zofia… Sonia… has anyone seen them?" she asked quietly, scanning the area.
Elena shook her head softly. "No… we haven't seen either, Mrs. Imenata…"
Imenata stared at the barrier, then the fog, and whispered:
"This is a Koshin Barrier… which means someone nearby is channeling it, or a Koshin Seal is active—possibly from outside…"
But before she could finish, Elena interrupted gently:
"Yes… and actually, we did find a Koshin Seal—on our side… but…"
"But…?" Imenata prompted.
Then her eyes widened. She understood.
"The outside is surrounded by Kona Fog," she realized aloud.
"If we break the barrier, we'll be lost in the fog," Elena added.
"But that means the barrier is protecting us," Imenata said, her voice steady despite her worry. "Then who placed it?"
"We don't even know that…"
Imenata sighed, gazing through the barrier.
"Ah… but truly, why has the fog reached the camp? This Kona Fog isn't supposed to be mobile… What's happening?"
She shook her head, then turned to the women, her voice firm and commanding:
"Make sure all children and women are here."
Then she closed her eyes briefly and prayed silently:
*Creator, keep Sonia and Zofia safe…*
As she watched the fog press against the barrier, she felt the weight of the moment.
But her worry sharpened her caution, her vigilance, and her resolve to protect everyone.
***
Shortly afterward, Jumana huddled in a corner of the protected zone, trying to make herself as small as possible.
"Come here, kids," she whispered in her soft voice, barely audible over the tension in the air.
Imenata stood rigid at the edge of the transparent barrier, her back straight, eyes locked onto the swirling gray fog.
The other women had gathered in small clusters, exchanging hushed, trembling whispers.
"Miss Jumana… I'm scared," little Sofia whispered, clinging tightly to Jumana's arm.
Jumana bent toward her, her hand shaking as she gently gripped the child's shoulder.
"Don't be afraid… we'll be alright," she murmured—her voice fragile as thin glass.
"But my grandpa's out there… will he be okay?" Saty suddenly blurted, his voice sharp with panic.
"My dad's out there too," Sofia added quickly.
"And my dad and my brother!" Mina chimed in.
"I've got uncles out there!"
"And me!"
One by one, the children spoke up, their voices trembling with worry for the family members beyond the fog.
Jumana had no answer.
She only nodded, tears welling in her eyes—tears she fought desperately to hold back.
She felt utterly powerless, like a tiny bird trapped in a raging storm.
Jumana had never been strong. She'd always leaned on her brother, Jon.
*Brother… I pray to the Lord you're safe,* she thought, her hands trembling as she whispered a silent plea.
Then—
A massive wolf emerged from the fog.
Its crimson eyes glowed like burning coals in the dark.
It stalked toward the transparent barrier, fangs bared, dripping with crimson saliva.
The women and children screamed—
—but the wolf halted abruptly at the barrier's edge, as if colliding with an invisible wall.
It snarled furiously, raking the shield with its claws—but the Koshin energy held firm, refusing entry.
"Look!" Mina cried, pointing at the wolf frantically pounding the barrier.
More wolves surged forward, hurling themselves against the shield with fangs and claws—but every assault failed.
The yellow barrier rippled with each impact, yet stood unbroken, solid as bedrock.
"He… he can't get in," Imenata whispered, awe and relief mingling in her voice as she watched the scene unfold.
"But my brother and my dad… they'll be safe, right?" Mina asked, her voice cracking with fear.
"Grandpa!" Saty sobbed. "The wolves are out there with him!"
The children's innocent anguish hung heavy in the air—each one terrified for someone they loved.
Outside, another wolf howled—its red eyes fixed on them with hateful hunger—yet completely helpless to cross the yellow circle.
It was trapped beyond their sanctuary, roaring in frustration.
Imenata climbed onto a wooden crate and spoke with calm authority:
"Our choices are clear. Stay here—in safety, behind a barrier we don't even understand but that shields us from these beasts—or step into the fog, teeming with monsters we can't see or fight."
The women exchanged glances, paralyzed by indecision.
Jumana stared at the wolf still clawing at the barrier, then at Saty's tear-streaked face.
The boy's words pierced her like a dagger.
"We cannot go out," Imenata finally declared, her voice thick with pain at their helplessness.
"The outside is crawling with these creatures. If we leave, our fate will be far worse."
Jumana sank to the ground and pulled Saty into her lap.
"Your grandpa… he's strong," she whispered, holding him close. "He'll make it through."
It was reassurance built on hope, not certainty.
"But there are so many wolves! Won't it be dangerous for them?!" Mina protested, tears soaking her tunic. "We saw them! They're everywhere!"
Slowly, the children gathered around Jumana—not because she called them, but because they instinctively sought her presence, as if her quiet fear was a kind of shelter.
Outside, the wolves kept attacking—their snarls growing desperate, turning into frantic, almost hysterical howls.
They could see their prey—just steps away—yet remained utterly powerless to reach them.
"Look," Jumana said softly, forcing calm into her voice, "the barrier protects us. It's strong."
"But who will protect my uncle?" one child whispered, eyes red from crying.
All the children huddled close—frightened, vulnerable, seeking comfort in Jumana's nearness.
She didn't command them. She didn't pretend to be fearless.
She simply sat—afraid, yes, but present.
Her arm remained around Saty, and she opened the other to draw in more of the trembling children.
"Your fathers… your uncles… your grandpas—they love you so much," she murmured into their ears.
"If they were here, they'd want you safe with us… protected from these wolves."
"But who will help them if a wolf attacks?" Mina's tears fell hot and fast.
"They're strong men," Jumana said, though her voice trembled.
"They'll support each other. My brother Jon is out there… and Boris—the one you all look up to—he's out there too!"
She pulled them tighter, sharing their fear without needing to speak further.
In her eyes, the children saw raw, honest worry—and in that honesty, they found comfort.
Then little Saty looked up, his eyes suddenly alight with a fragile spark of hope:
"Yes! Boris Bro is strong! He's out there… he'll protect everyone, right?"
It was the hopeful question of a child who still believed in heroes.
Yes… Boris was out there—somewhere in that suffocating, deadly fog.
But could one man truly stand against what lurked beyond? Jumana didn't know.
She looked into Saty's eyes and saw her own fear reflected there—yet beneath it, the same flicker of hope.
"Of course, Little Saty," she said, swallowing hard.
"Boris… is incredibly strong. Maybe right now, he's protecting others."
She was terrified—but in this moment, she chose hope.
They all stood together inside the transparent yellow shield, watching the wolves rage outside.
The barrier saved them—but it also imprisoned them, locking them away from those they loved most.
And Jumana—she who had never led, never been the strong one—found herself at the quiet center of their shared fear.
Not by choice, but because this was all she could offer:
to feel with them, to fear with them…
and to simply be there—a trembling anchor in the storm—while real danger howled just meters away, forever out of reach.
***
Before the fog spread, Zofia had been sleeping beside little Sofia.
She hadn't heard a sound or movement—but something woke her: a sensation, like a gentle fly brushing inside her eye.
She sat up in silence, head tilted as if listening to something no one else could hear.
Then she looked outside.
That presence she always felt—it—that strange void in her sensory web.
Boris was moving.
She slipped away from the sleepers in one fluid motion, her bare feet making no sound on the cold ground.
Normally, following him in darkness with closed eyes would be impossible—but she felt him.
Her trembling eyes guided her toward him without ears.
She moved toward the camp's edge, head tilted as if tracking a faint melody.
She didn't know why she followed him—but something inside screamed that they needed to talk… that she had to…
She didn't understand it—but despite her resistance to it, she kept going.
She slipped through the trees as if she knew the path in total darkness.
She felt his presence receding—like a silken thread connecting them—so she walked faster.
***
Takashi patrolled the camp's edge, having also volunteered for watch.
His narrow eyes were bored—but his mind was far away…
On that girl with closed eyes and beautiful lashes.
Zofia.
For some reason, she'd stolen his heart at first glance.
*Ah, I should stop thinking uselessly,* he shook his head, pushing the thought away.
He sighed—then caught a flicker of movement at the camp's edge.
Zofia.
*What's she doing out here at midnight?* he wondered.
Curiosity overrode caution.
He followed her from a distance, slipping between shadows like a cautious cat.
He knew it was dangerous—but he was genuinely worried for her.
He saw her vanish into the trees and hesitated.
"Damn it," he muttered, then dashed after her.
***
Before the fog enveloped the camp, Sonia had woken to drink water.
The small tent she shared with Imenata, Sofia, and Zofia was quiet—only the steady breaths of sleepers broke the silence.
As Zofia returned to her mat with quiet steps, Sonia suddenly heard a faint rustle from the forest bushes.
"Sh_"
She turned slowly, her rabbit-like ears twitching slightly.
Then she heard a familiar voice whispering from the shadows:
"Sonia…"
She relaxed instantly. "Leo!"
From the trees emerged a tousled blond boy, no older than six—pale skin, sharp features.
He wore a white shirt and knee-length shorts, barefoot, as if stepping out of a dream.
His expression was stern, and his sharp silver-irised eyes glowed faintly in the dim light.
"Shh… keep your voice down, you fool," he said gruffly—but without malice.
"Sorry…" Sonia shrank a little.
"It's fine… Dad went to handle something. He asked me to protect you."
Sonia's eyes widened with worry. "Where did Brother Boris go? And why ask you to protect me? What's going to happen?"
Leo ignored most of her questions:
"Simply put—an attack is coming. Bandits and wolves. And someone is manipulating the fog to their advantage."
Before Sonia could process his words, thick gray fog began crawling toward the camp like a living creature, swallowing everything in its path.
"There they go. Hold my hand—and don't ever let go," Leo said calmly, hands in his pockets as if the attack were a minor nuisance.
Sonia grabbed his hand quickly—but her questions didn't stop:
"But everyone's in danger! Doesn't Brother Boris want to protect the whole caravan? Why leave us?"
"Don't worry. Lia will handle the fog. As for me…" a small smile flickered on his lips. "I'll step in if needed. And Dad went to face their leader. Lia said he seems strong."
"Stronger than you?" Sonia asked, astonished.
"No. Not even comparable…" Leo paused, choosing his words carefully. "Dad just… overprotects his little girl."
Sonia giggled softly. "Hehe~ Do you wish Boris would spoil you like he spoils Lia?"
Leo's face instantly flushed red. "What?! Shut up!"
"Hehe~ Looks like little Leo's jealous."
"I'm not jealous!" he protested—too loudly.
But Sonia wasn't fooled. She knew she'd struck a nerve.
What she didn't know was that Leo had hidden the real reason Boris had left.
It was a secret Boris would never tell her.