Only when the cries and shrieks had faded into silence did the weight of it all begin to press down upon Xavier. The rush that had driven him forward, the desperate surge of adrenaline that had carried his body down the slope, now ebbed away like a tide retreating from the shore. What remained was exhaustion—raw, bone-deep weariness—and the corpse sprawled across the snow.
His breath came unevenly, each exhale forming a fragile cloud that lingered for a heartbeat before vanishing into the cold air. His fingers trembled around the shaft of the spear, locked in a grip so tight it seemed his hands had forgotten how to release it.
The demon centaur no longer resembled the nightmare that had tried to tear him apart. It lay motionless, stripped of its fury, its monstrous strength reduced to stillness. Black blood seeped into the snow, spreading in dark veins that marred the purity of the white ground. Its chest no longer rose.
Xavier could not look away.
Moments ago, it had been nothing but an enemy—something dangerous, something that would have killed him without hesitation had he faltered even once. But now, in death, it seemed different. It had fought desperately, it had screamed, it had bled. And in its final instant, before the last breath slipped away, its face fell upon his; it had no eyes, but one could tell its gaze fell upon him. A quiet, unfamiliar discomfort stirred within Xavier's chest, heavily. This was the first life he had ever taken with his own hands.
His grip loosened, the spear sagging as a cold shiver crawled down his spine.
"Xavier."
Raiden's voice drifted across the clearing, pulling him back from the edge of his thoughts.
Blinking, Xavier turned. The knight leaned against the splintered remains of a pine tree, his cloak torn and his body marked with wounds. Bandages, already stained with blood, peeked through the rents in his clothing. One arm hung uselessly at his side, the other pressed awkwardly against his body. His face had lost much of its color, yet he remained standing, unyielding despite the toll.
Xavier hurried toward him. "Are you alright?"
A weary smile tugged faintly at Raiden's lips. "I've been better." His gaze flicked toward the fallen centaur before returning to Xavier. "I wasn't expecting you to come back."
Xavier rubbed the back of his neck, awkward and uncertain. "Neither was I." He gave a small, embarrassed laugh, shrugging as though trying to shake off the weight of his choice. "But then I remembered you're basically my only guide through this place. Running away sounded smart for about five seconds… after that, abandoning my best chance of surviving didn't seem like such a great idea."
Raiden studied him quietly, then allowed a genuine smile to break through the fatigue. "Really?"
"Yeah."
The winter wind swept gently across the clearing, stirring the branches above and carrying away the lingering scent of blood. Xavier stretched out his hand. "You said the Black Tower is north, right?"
Raiden accepted the hand, letting Xavier pull him upright. "It is. But it's farther than you think. At our pace, it may take several days."
"Then we'd better start moving."
Together, they turned toward the survivors. The alpha demon centaur had vanished, and the remaining monsters had melted into the forest, abandoning the hunt without warning. Whether they had fled because of Raiden, because of Xavier, or simply because the battle had lost its worth, neither could say. For now, the forest was quiet again.
Xavier's eyes drifted toward the old man lying in the snow. His steps slowed. The body scarcely resembled a human anymore. Flesh and bone had been shattered, crushed beneath unimaginable force. Crimson stained the snow, ribs jutted like splintered branches, and half of his skull had caved inward, fragments scattered across the ground. One eye remained open, staring endlessly toward the heavens, frozen in terror.
The wind whispered softly. Nothing moved. Only a short while ago, the man had been screaming. Now he was silent.
Xavier's stomach tightened. Raiden's voice cut through the stillness. "Focus on the living, Xavier."
Xavier lowered his gaze, nodding quietly. "…Yeah."
Only then did he truly look at the two survivors. The older girl caught his attention first—skin a deep shade of brown, long black hair falling across her shoulders, exhaustion etched into her face. But it was her ears that held him. Long. Graceful and pointed. "An elf?" he thought. The word nearly escaped his lips, but he caught himself, watching silently.
Beside her sat another girl, human, her frightened eyes darting nervously between Xavier and Raiden.
Raiden stepped forward. "Are you both alright?"
The elf nodded weakly. "…Yes. Thank you for saving us."
The younger girl bowed her head quickly. "Thank you, sir."
Raiden gave a quiet nod. "Good. Then let's leave." The Elf girl nodded in agreement, her hand folded to her chest, as she muttered "Thank you!" Afterward, she placed both hands in the snow, attempting to raise herself from the ground, but the relief on the elf's face faltered. Confusion crept in later, then fear. "I….I can't move," he said
All movement seized in that moment; Raiden turned and frowned. "What do you mean?, You can't move."
She looked down at her legs, as though only now realizing something was wrong. She tried to move them. Nothing. Tried again. Still nothing. The color drained from her face. "I… I can't feel them." Her breathing grew uneven, panic rising. She struck her thighs with trembling hands, desperate for a response. There was none.
Understanding struck like a blade. Whatever the centaurs had done had broken something deep inside her.
"No…" The word slipped out, fragile and broken. Tears welled, spilling down her cheeks. "I can't move. I can't feel my legs."
The monsters were gone. She had survived. Yet something far more precious had been taken.
Silence fell. Even the wind seemed to lose its voice.
Raiden crouched beside her, his eyes quiet, his expression heavy. It took only a moment for him to see the truth. She hadn't merely been wounded. She had been crippled.
The elf buried her face in her hands, sobs escaping between her fingers. Xavier stood frozen, realization dawning. Death was not the cruelest fate this world could offer. Watching her weep helplessly in the snow, he understood—there were tragedies far harsher than dying.
Almost instinctively, he turned to Raiden. The knight always had an answer. But now, Raiden was silent. His eyes stared into empty space, lost in some memory only he could see. His shoulders quivered beneath the cloak, his breathing heavy.
"Raiden?"
No response.
"…Raiden."
He blinked, returning slowly to the present. His gaze lingered on the crying elf before he rose to his feet. "There is nothing we can do. We're leaving."
The words struck harder than any monster's roar.
The elf's face turned pale. "W-Wait…"
Xavier frowned. "What do you mean?"
Raiden's eyes met his. The warmth was gone. Standing before them now was not the easygoing knight Xavier had come to know. It was a survivor. "We leave without her."
The girl's breathing hitched. "No…" She dragged herself forward, her legs trailing lifelessly behind. "Please… I have money. I swear I do. When we leave this place, I'll pay you. I'll pay whatever you want. Just… please don't leave me here."
Xavier's chest tightened. The sight was unbearable. Her survival no longer depended on monsters—it depended on whether someone believed her life was worth carrying.
Raiden closed his eyes. "I'm sorry." His voice was quiet, sincere. That made it hurt even more. "But carrying you means slowing everyone down. We don't know how far the Black Tower is. It could take one day… perhaps two… perhaps longer. Every hour we spend here means more monsters, more danger, less food. If we carry you… we may all die before reaching it."
His words were calm, steady, as though he had spoken them before. As though this was not the first time he had been forced to abandon someone.