The mountain air on the plateau had grown progressively sharper as the midnight hour approached, drawing the heavy, sweet scent of burning pine sap from the roaring campfire. Sparks danced upward into the obsidian sky like a scattered constellation, dying out the moment they hit the freezing upper currents. Around the perimeter of the camp, the high alpine grass rustled with a dry, rhythmic hiss under the wind, while the massive, dark shapes of tethered pack horses shifted lazily in the shadows, their warm breath pluming into the cold air.
Kairo stood up slowly from his seat on the log, extending his arms over his head. The joints in his shoulders popped cleanly, a small physical relief after hours of rigid posture. The residual phantom aches of his previous deaths still lingered deep within his bone marrow—a cold, systemic echo that his pragmatic mind was currently cataloging as an unavoidable side effect of temporal displacement.
A few feet away, Akio pushed himself up from the dirt, shaking his distinct mane of white hair to clear away the stray embers and ash. He grinned, his red eyes catching the flickering light of the flames with a mischievous, otherworldly glint.
Before the short, goofy boy could fully straighten his spine, Kairo moved. His combat-trained reflexes, honed by months of brutal, life-or-death encounters in the dark corridors of the lower levels, took over before his conscious mind could check them. Slipping seamlessly into Akio's blind spot with a low, predatory center of gravity, Kairo locked his arms around the white-haired boy's midsection. Shifting his weight backward, he executed a flawless, high-amplitude suplex.
The air rushed out of Akio in a sharp grunt as his body traveled through an arching trajectory, landing with a heavy, muffled thud directly into a large, stacked haybale at the edge of the clearing. Dust and dry straw exploded outward, catching the orange firelight like a cloud of gold dust.
Akio sputtered, flailing his short limbs as he dug himself out of the rustling mass, coughing lightly through his grin. "Uhh, damn it! If that haybale wasn't there, I would have been dead!"
Kairo adjusted his leather jerkin, his breathing completely even as his analytical mind already calculated the structural density of the remaining hay stacks. "Well, you guys are pre-historic giants. I know you won't—"
He didn't get to finish the sentence.
From the darkness behind him, a pair of powerful, solid arms wrapped around his chest with the force of an iron vise. Leonhart had closed the distance without a sound, his majestic golden eyes flashing with competitive glee. Despite being only twelve years old, the boy possessed the raw, anomalous strength of a high-tier warrior lineage, his grip instantly pinning Kairo's elbows to his ribs.
"Can you tell me what you are doing, Leonhart?" Kairo muttered, his feet instantly shifting to find a counter-lever against the stone-hard ground.
Before he could throw his weight forward, a low, disciplined shadow swept across the grass. Renji lunged in with textbook execution, his powerful hands locking firmly around Kairo's ankles, completely destroying his base of support. Akio let out a wild, booming roar, exploding out of the haybale like a launched spring. With a chaotic surge of combined physical force, the three boys hoisted Kairo off the ground and, with a massive heave, threw him straight into the night sky.
The world tilted violently. The campfire shrank into a tiny orange dot beneath him as the freezing upper wind slammed into his face, tearing the breath from his throat. A raw, uncalculated, high-pitched scream escaped Kairo's lips—a completely involuntary reaction to the sudden loss of gravitational anchor.
Down below, Mika paused, her hand hovering over the hilt of her practice saber as she looked up into the dark sky. "Wait, why are you guys screaming?"
Hina, who was carefully weaving a string of dried wild daisies between her fingers, blinked her soft eyes innocently. "Wait, we didn't scream at all."
Akio pointed a trembling, dirt-stained finger upward, doubling over as a hysterical, breathless laugh tore from his chest. "It's Kairo! It's Kairo!"
Rose, sitting near the supply crates, craned her neck upward, her brow furrowing with genuine concern as she watched the prince's silhouette reach the apex of its flight. "But how is he gonna survive? He is up in the sky!"
High above the trees, Kairo's mind instantly overrode the adrenaline spike. Velocity expanding. Freefall calculation: three seconds to terminal impact on stone infrastructure. Somatic trigger required.
With a sharp flick of his wrist, he gathered the ambient mana floating within the damp earth below. He slammed his intent downward. Mud Magic: Geocentric Pillar.
A low, wet rumble shook the edge of the plateau. A massive, viscous torrent of dark, thick mud erupted from the earth like a geyser, rushing upward into the sky with impossible speed. The churning column of wet earth expanded, shaping itself into a massive, cushioned mitt that intercepted Kairo's torso just inches before his skull could make contact with the hard concrete-like rock of the clearing. The impact was a loud, wet squelch, the cold, thick mud perfectly absorbing the kinetic energy of his descent.
Kairo slid down the side of the mud pillar, landing on his hands and knees, coughing violently as the smell of wet loam and old rain filled his senses.
A few feet away, Daichi remained completely prone on a pile of soft furs, his broad straw hat tilted entirely over his face to block out the firelight. He didn't even lift his head, his voice dripping with his usual lazy genius apathy. "Ohh... you guys won't let him be in peace."
Renji, Leonhart, and Akio didn't answer. They turned their heads slowly toward Daichi, their eyes wide and unblinking like manic predators targeting a stationary prey.
The next second was a blur of chaotic motion. The trio descended upon the lounging boy, tearing the straw hat away. Before Daichi's high observation skills could map out an escape vector, he was airborne, his long limbs flailing against the stars as he was launched into the exact same terrifying trajectory.
Kairo, still wiping wet clay from his jaw, didn't hesitate. He raised his mud-covered hands, his fingers twisting through the air as he forced his remaining mana into a secondary casting. The mud pillar shifted, extending a long, thick tentacle of wet earth across the clearing. It snapped through the air, catching Daichi by the waist and pulling him out of his deadly pitfall just inches away from a jagged rock cluster at the edge of the camp.
Daichi hit the soft grass with a heavy gasp, his chest heaving violently as the sheer rush of adrenaline turned his pale face flush. He stared at the sky, his lazy composure entirely shattered by the tactical terror of the throw. "Ohh, goddamn it... while our soldiers used to throw enemies like that during the siege, I didn't know it was that scary." He rolled over, looking at Kairo with a sharp, newfound intensity in his eyes. He pushed himself up into a low sprint. "Let's do this, Kairo."
Kairo stood up, the last remnants of his internal panic fading into a cold, competitive resolve. "Yeah, lets do this."
But the moment they squared their shoulders to retaliate, they found the clearing ahead of them empty. Renji, Akio, and Leonhart were already thirty yards away, bolted into the high grass of the plateau, their boots kicking up clods of dirt as they fled the scene of the crime.
Akio's mocking laughter drifted back through the wind, his voice high and goading. "See you later slow, fat, weak Kairo! Ohh, and lazy Daichi!"
Kairo began to sprint, his boots cutting through the dry brush, but his analytical brain paused on the phrasing. He yelled over his shoulder at the boy running beside him. "Wait, why did he forget about Daichi?"
Daichi's face twisted into an irritated scowl, his long strides easily keeping pace despite his usual lack of exertion. "What do you mean by that, Kairo? I'm right here!"
The sound of their heavy footsteps faded into the darkness as they chased the laughing trio into the moonlit hills.
Back at the campfire, the atmosphere remained remarkably serene, the crackle of the wood providing a peaceful counterpoint to the distant shouts echoing from the valley. The girls sat in a tight circle around the heat, their expressions unbothered, smoothly continuing their conversation as if the chaotic display of male idiocy hadn't just occurred right in front of them.
Mita adjusted her wool shawl, watching the distant silhouette of Leonhart perform a massive leap over a fallen log in the distance. "Woah, I didn't know Leonhart was this childish."
Mika let out a soft, worldly sigh, poking the base of the fire with a long stick, sending a fresh shower of sparks into the night air. "Uhh, boys are childish. They aren't mature like girls. My father always says a soldier needs discipline before he enters the vanguard, but those three look like untamed hounds."
Liana sat with her hands elegantly crossed in her lap, the fine silk trim of her noble dress catching the warm light. Her posture was flawless, but her eyes kept drifting toward the dark tree line where Kairo had disappeared. A faint, worried line appeared between her perfectly manicured brows. "Uhh, but I worry they might actually hurt themselves out there in the dark."
Ayame, the maid's daughter, didn't look up from the leather boots she was meticulously cleaning for Kairo. Her movements were sharp, efficient, and deeply practiced from years of dedicated service. A small, protective scowl touched her lips as she noticed Liana's lingering concern.
"But my father says pain gives you strength," Ayame said, her voice firm and grounded in the harsh reality of the common folk. "We are weak because we don't take risks like men do."
In the far background, past the illumination of the fire, a sudden surge of dark mud rose from the brush, wrapping around Akio's ankles mid-parkour and sending him flying face-first into another distant haybale with a muffled crash.
Rose shook her head, her delicate features softening as she pulled her cloak tighter against the mountain breeze. "Yeah, we don't take those risks. But why would I take unnecessary risks like wrestling and hurting myself for any unnecessary reason? It lacks logic."
Behind them, the darkness erupted into fresh chaos. Leonhart had managed to circle back around, sneaking up behind Kairo to completely close his eyes with his palms, while a few yards away, Renji and Daichi had collided, locked in an incredibly intense, mud-splattered wrestling match in the tall grass, both of their faces tight with strain.
Hina smiled softly, completely ignoring the grunts of exertion from the field as she held up her finished daisy chain. "Hey, I was thinking... what kind of flowers do you guys like?"
Just over her shoulder, Kairo's concentration finally shattered. The magical grip of his mud magic slid away from Akio, allowing the white-haired boy and Leonhart to break free, their mocking laughter echoing through the trees as they successfully ran away from Kairo's immediate reach once more.
Rose leaned closer to the warmth of the hearth, her eyes reflecting the deep crimson core of the dying logs. "I like red flowers... or crimson flowers. They look way too pretty, like the tapestries in the grand halls."
Hina nodded gently, her fingers lightly tracing the soft, pale petals of the wild daisies in her lap. "Woah... but I like white flowers. They don't have any vibrant color, but it doesn't mean they are bad. They are good for being different from others. They survive the winter storms better than the bright ones."
Out in the shadows, the chase entered a new phase of escalation. Akio and Leonhart, realizing the mud was growing thicker near the ground, vaulted onto the low stone architectural ruins bordering the plateau, executing a series of rapid, fluid parkour stunts across the ancient masonry. Below them, Kairo stood with his jaw set, his hands moving through precise, rhythmic gestures as he continually directed pillars of wet, dark earth to intercept their landings, the sounds of their laughter and the wet slaps of magic echoing long into the mountain night.
The dew on the plateau grass had begun to freeze, turning the long blades into slick, silver needles that cracked under the boys' boots. Out in the shadows, the dull, heavy thud of shifting weight echoed as Daichi and Renji remained locked in their fierce battle of wrestling. Their breath rose in thick, frantic clouds of steam, their faces slick with sweat and splattered mud. Renji, executing a precise lever against Daichi's hip, suddenly hoisted the lazy genius off his feet and threw him hard across the turf.
The moment Daichi hit the ground, Renji didn't wait for a counter-attack. He turned on his heel and started to run down the incline toward the safety of the campfire.
Daichi, rolling through the impact with his high observation skills instantly mapping the terrain, spotted a massive, shoulder-high haybale directly in his path. Using his momentum, he lunged forward, jumped high into the crisp air, and landed squarely on top of the packed straw. The height gave him an immediate tactical view of the field.
Renji looked over his shoulder, his eyes widening as he saw Daichi crouching atop the bale, preparing to leap down upon him. Panic breaking through his usual discipline, Renji yanked loose handfuls of dry straw from a nearby stack. He began throwing the haybales and loose debris backward into the wind, hoping the frantic clouds of dust and chaff would get into Daichi's eyes and stop his pursuit.
The chaotic rustle of flying straw was suddenly cut short by a sharp, authoritative voice that pierced through the mountain wind.
Mika stood at the edge of the light, her hands firmly on her hips, her posture mimicking her general father's commanding presence. "Whoever stops fighting and comes here first will get my mom's special cake!"
The words had an almost physical impact. Out in the dark, the rustling stopped instantly. Renji froze with a clump of straw still clutched in his fist. Atop the bale, Daichi paused mid-calculation. A few yards away, Kairo, Leonhart, and Akio dropped their magical stances, their ears perking up at the mention of the legendary elite confection. Without a single second of hesitation, the entire group turned and started running at full speed toward Mika, their fierce rivalry dissolving into a frantic race for sugar.
Mika watched the stampede of mud-covered boys approach, letting out a satisfied exhale as she adjusted the large, linen-wrapped wooden tray on the camp table. "See? My mom's magic works. It can calm these boys down better than any guard command."
Mita stood in absolute shock, her mouth slightly open as she watched the fierce warriors instantly tame themselves for a slice of pastry. "Ohh... yeah. She is really strong."
Ayame, her eyes locked onto the rich, dark frosting of the cake as she stood close to Kairo's designated seat, nodded with deep respect. "I would like to learn this. A tool that commands men without a sword is a rare craft."
Liana, however, merely sighed, her fingers tracing the elegant silk embroidery of her cuffs as she looked at the roughly cut slices. There was a faint, aristocratic melancholy in her voice. "But the thing is, not everyone has the same taste. No matter how hard I try to make it, even if I can copy other tastes perfectly... it just ends up having my own taste. True legacy can't be duplicated."
The girls' philosophical musings were completely ignored by the arrival of the vanguard. Within seconds, Kairo, Leonhart, Renji, Daichi, and Akio were huddled around the wooden tray, their previous tactical formations forgotten as they stuffed their faces with the rich, dense cake. The taste was a heavy explosion of wild mountain berries, sweet honey, and dark chocolate that completely coated their throats, washing away the bitter taste of mud and exertion.
They ate with a ravenous, chaotic energy, straw still clinging to their hair and mud drying on their cheeks.
Akio, his red eyes wide with pure joy, wrapped a sticky, unwashed arm around Kairo's neck, pulling him into a rough embrace. Leonhart, laughing through a mouth full of frosting, threw his weight against Renji, while Daichi simply leaned his head against Kairo's shoulder, his lazy scowl completely replaced by a content, sugar-induced daze.
They were hugging each other tightly, laughing at their own bruises and the ridiculousness of the chase, acting as if they had never been fighting each other at all.
Kairo let himself be pulled into the center of the chaotic heap. His analytical mind, which spent every waking hour measuring threats, calculating loops, and anticipating the horrors of the lower levels, finally quieted down. Looking at the sticky, grinning faces of the boys around him, a rare, profound warmth settled behind his ribs.
They weren't just comrades bound by a military campaign or political convenience. As the fire roared against the freezing night, casting their unified shadow across the ancient stone walls, Kairo knew the absolute truth of it. They were true friends. No matter what horrors the cursed lands held, no matter how many times time tore them apart or forced them through hell, these boys would always be loyal to each other until the very end.