Veil

It felt like an eternity, trapped in the form of a bush. The sensation itself wasn't unpleasant—if anything, it was peaceful, almost meditative. But it did nothing to quiet his mind.

The scene played over and over in his head, a relentless cycle of horror. The wanton slaughter of the goblins. The face of Gobo. The arrow. Again and again.

"They treated it like a game." The thought burned through him. "They killed them with joy. It was entertainment to them."

Sorrow welled up inside him, heavy and suffocating, yet in this form, he had no way to release it. No voice to scream. No hands to clench into fists. It existed only in his mind. And yet, his leaves drooped—his grief manifesting in the only way it could.

"I need to get out of this form. I need to turn back… but how?!"

He felt the sun dip lower through the canopy, the last traces of warmth slipping away. His body—if he could even call it that—responded instinctively. A nocturnal cycle began, a creeping drowsiness washing over him, making his leaves sag. It was automatic, something beyond his control.

But something else was happening. A feeling he recognized.

The same sensation he got when using fire breath. The same presence he had sensed from the adventurers when they cast their spells.

"My MP is draining!"

A sharp awareness cut through his hazy mind. He focused inward, reaching for his MP reserves. They were almost gone—reduced to a sliver. No wonder his thoughts felt sluggish. It was the same drained state he had always experienced after pushing himself too far, the creeping exhaustion that signaled he was running on empty.

"But I'm not casting anything… am I?"

He focused harder, searching within himself. The drain was still there, steady, constant. Something was feeding off his MP, sustaining itself through his energy.

"That's it… I'm maintaining a spell!"

But what spell?

His first thought was Polymorph, but he immediately rejected that.

"No… that mage. She said she could detect Polymorph. If this were just that, they would have found me instantly."

He didn't understand what spell he had cast. He didn't even remember casting anything at all. But he could feel it now. Something was draining him, keeping him in this form.

"If I can figure out how it's doing that… maybe I can shut it off!"

More time passed.

And then, suddenly—his MP was gone.

A shift coursed through him, deep and undeniable. His body—his real body—began to change.

"There it is! It turned off! I just felt it! So that's how you turn it off!"

He gasped as sensation flooded back. His clawed hands, his tail, his lungs expanding with air. His vision returned in an instant, only for the blinding light of the setting sun to overwhelm him. He squinted, his breath coming in ragged pants as the transformation completed.

Instinctively, his hand went to his chest—the wound from before. His scales were scarred over, but the injury was closed.

"Well, that's useful!"

His mind was foggy, but he was still conscious.

He exhaled, focusing past the haze. Something else… something about magic…

"The magic system here has waves of energy. I can sense them."

He could still feel the residual magic in the air. Even when the adventurers had surrounded him, he had picked up another spell being used nearby.

"That must've been the spell they called Appraise."

He focused inward. He still had some magic left—just enough to experiment.

"Appraise didn't seem like it cost much. If I can just… figure out how to manipulate those energy waves—the ones with that distinctive frequency I felt before…"

Hibana cast a spell on the bush he had hidden behind. A window popped up before his eyes.

APPRAISAL

Type: Flora – PlantCombat Information: Not applicableHP: 10/10

Species: Blue Ferrel (Wild Shrub)Alchemic Use: UnknownNutritional Value: 0.03 – Ingestion not recommended

"So that settles it. I can cast spells."

The revelation sent a strange thrill through him. He was drained from his transformation, but this spell hadn't made him feel any weaker. The cost was negligible, barely noticeable.

"I wonder what this spell does on a person?"

He exhaled, taking a deep breath through his nostrils.

The forest air was damp with the lingering scents of the day—earth, leaves, distant traces of wildlife. But the scent of blood and steel still clung faintly to the area. The adventurers had passed through, but they weren't here now.

"I better not go back to the camp… those bastards could be waiting for me."

He needed to move. To hide.

Even if the adventurers were gone, other things lurked in these woods. Predators. Beasts that didn't need magic to tear through him in his current state.

"I need shelter before something else decides I'd make a good meal."

Hibana wandered through the trees for hours, searching for a place to rest. The forest was calm, peaceful—almost like a walk through a park at night. The cool air wrapped around him, carrying the scent of damp earth and leaves.

Above, the stars peeked through the canopy, distant and unfamiliar. The constellations didn't match the sky he once knew. No Nanatsuboshi, no Tsuzumi-boshi—just an alien arrangement of lights, indifferent yet beautiful.

This world, foreign as it was, was becoming his new reality. And in moments like this, when everything was still, he found himself treasuring the quiet.

"Maybe someday I can get a sketchbook again… or whatever the equivalent is in this world."

The pleasant thought vanished when Hibana spotted firelight flickering through the trees. Voices drifted through the night air.

"They must be downwind… I couldn't smell them!"

Hibana crept forward, his body low to the ground, ears straining to pick up the conversation. Then—

A voice he had never heard before.

"Let me pass. I have no quarrel with any of you."

A firm, measured tone. Unshaken. Unafraid.

Then another voice—one he did recognize.

"Just a minute, Beastkin! We're looking for a dragon—about yay big."

Rutger. The warrior.

Hibana stiffened. "Oh no! They're still looking for me!"

Carefully, he crept closer, slipping between the undergrowth until the firelight revealed the scene.

All four adventurers stood together, Sudio among them. But across from them stood someone new.

A tall figure, towering nearly two and a half heads above the adventurers.

Not human.

She stood rigid, unmoving—like a marble statue carved by the hands of gods.

Her kimono, once elegant, was now caked in dirt and frayed at the edges, revealing glimpses of splint armor beneath the fabric. Yellow, with delicate floral patterns woven through it, cinched by a blue sash.

Her weapon—a massive nodachi—rested over her shoulder. The blade was worn, chipped along the edges, its very tip broken off.

Her fur was earthy brown, her black nose sharp and dignified.

Her golden eyes pierced the firelight—calm, unwavering, but carrying a quiet exhaustion.

Two large ears fell just beneath a pair of small, weathered antlers.

A mane of yellow fur framed her face, flowing like wild grass in the wind.

Hibana couldn't look away.

"That doesn't concern me, human. Now let me by."

Her voice was calm. Unshaken. As if she were speaking to insects rather than armed men.

A scoff. Then Zeke spoke up, his excitement barely contained.

"Hey, I know her! That's Tsu—the murderer! She's wanted in the Demihuman Kingdom. 100 gold coins! To hell with the dragon—let's just take her!"

Lara chimed in next.

"She's A-tier! But she's not very high level—we can take her!"

William nodded, assessing her with a calculating stare.

"Her equipment's damaged, and she looks fatigued. This would be quite the haul. Perhaps our benefactor here didn't waste our time after all."

Sudio simply folded his arms, a grimace on his face.

"Hmmph."

Then—steel flashed.

Tsu's nodachi swept from her shoulder in a single, fluid motion, cutting through the firelight like a falling star.

The tip hovered at her side, perfectly still. Unmoving. Absolute.

Her golden eyes remained unreadable.

"This is your final warning."

Her voice was as lifeless as cold iron.

Rutger grinned, unsheathing his sword with a confident flourish.

"You don't scare me, freakshow. You're outnumbered—and we have higher levels!"

Tsu kicked off her heel, launching forward like a bullet.

Hibana barely saw her move before she was already on top of William—just as he opened his mouth to chant a buff spell.

The words never had time to leave his lips.

SHLK.

His head flew clean off his shoulders. The body remained standing for a single, awful moment before a crimson geyser erupted from his open neck.

Lara screamed.

She raised her staff, chanting Fireball—

But Tsu was already on her.

One bound. One swing.

Her nodachi sliced straight through Lara's staff—then her midsection.

Her upper body slid off her waist, collapsing onto the dirt.

Hibana barely registered Sudio turning to flee into the woods. That coward didn't matter anymore.

Because Tsu was still moving.

Zeke staggered back, fumbling for his bow.

He loosed arrow after arrow—but none of them reached her.

Tsu batted them aside like leaves in the wind.

Then—she caught one.

For a single breath, she stared at it.

Then she moved.

A blur. A gust of air. A flash of silver.

She closed the distance in an instant, driving the arrow's tip straight into Zeke's forehead.

His body jerked. He staggered.

Then—he dropped, limp as a sack of potatoes.

Rutger was furious.

He charged, sword swinging in a wide arc.

Tsu sidestepped effortlessly, her blade flickering as she parried. Steel rang through the air.

Hibana watched, enthralled.

She wasn't just fighting. She was dancing.

Every strike, every movement was measured—perfect.

But Rutger wasn't slow.

He was the leader for a reason. He wasn't as fast as her, but he was just fast enough to keep up.

Clash. Parry. Dodge. Counter.

Tsu's nodachi skimmed his flesh again and again, landing shallow cuts between his defenses.

She was wearing him down.

Then—she struck.

A solid kick to the chest.

Rutger's body lifted off the ground and slammed into the dirt.

Tsu advanced. Silent. Unstoppable.

Her blade gleamed in the firelight, ready to deliver the final stroke.

But then—

A flick of his wrist.

A handful of dirt, thrown straight into her eyes.

Tsu gasped, staggering back.

Hibana's breath caught. "No—!"

For the first time in the entire fight, Tsu faltered.

Rutger was already moving.

He flipped onto his feet, his hand slipping to his boot.

A dagger flashed.

SHLK.

The blade sank deep into her side.

Tsu let out a sharp breath, but she didn't scream.

Her golden eyes widened in shock.

Rutger sneered, twisting the dagger deeper.

"You samurai… always fighting with honor!"

He kicked her in the knee, sending her crashing to the ground.

She tried to stand—but her body refused.

Rutger loomed over her, panting, his bloodied sword rising for the final blow.

"But a warrior fights to WIN!"

Hibana's heart raged.

"I must save her! I can't let that evil scumbag kill her!"

Hibana sprinted out of the forest, rage surging through his veins.

He saw Tsu on the ground, wounded. Rutger standing over her, sword raised.

No.

Not her.

He threw himself forward, launching straight at Rutger like a wildfire unleashed.

They collided.

The force of the tackle sent them both crashing to the ground.

Rutger's sword clattered away, spinning into the dirt.

With a snarl, Rutger tried to throw Hibana off.

But Hibana was faster.

His maw found Rutger's throat.

And he bit down.

Hard.

He felt bone snap. Flesh tear.

The iron tang of blood flooded his mouth.

Rutger choked, his body convulsing.

A desperate kick—Hibana was sent flying off him.

Rutger staggered to his feet, one hand clawing at his ruined throat.

He took one step. Then another.

Then—

He collapsed.

And he didn't get back up.

Hibana panted, his breath ragged, his heart still hammering from the fight. He turned—and found Tsu already looking at him.

Her golden eyes, sharp even through the haze of pain, locked onto his.

Then, finally, she spoke.

Her voice was weary but firm.

"…Do you want a reward for your heroism?"

There was no gratitude in her tone. Only bitterness. Disbelief.

Hibana didn't react to the words. He barely even processed them. His eyes were on her wound.

"You're wounded. I want to help you."

Tsu let out a breath.

Then—she laughed.

It was a sharp, almost mocking sound.

"This… this is a joke. The gods have played a most cruel joke on me!"

Her body trembled, whether from pain or sheer absurdity, even she wasn't sure.

Hibana nodded. His voice was quiet, almost fragile.

"Please don't die… I can't lose anyone else today."

His throat tightened. "Especially not you. Not after you just avenged the only ones who ever seemed to care about me."

Hibana looked back at the fallen adventurers before turning to William's lifeless body.

"He was their healer… surely he has a potion on him somewhere."

His claws rummaged through the satchel, heart pounding. Then—his fingers closed around glass.

He pulled out a small vial filled with red liquid.

His chest tightened with relief. "This has to be one."

Carefully, he carried it over to Tsu.

She didn't even look at him.

"Leave me, dragon… I am of no use to you."

Her voice was cold. Final.

Hibana didn't argue.

He simply knelt, placed the potion at her side, and stepped away.

Then, softly—

"A Samurai decides their own death, right? Not a coward who fights dirty."

Tsu's breath hitched.

Her golden eyes widened.

Then—a low, guttural growl.

Her fingers snatched up the bottle.

She pulled the cork free with her teeth, tilted her head back, and drank.

She coughed against the bitter liquid as it coursed through her body, her wound beginning to glow as the bleeding slowed, then stopped.

A long, measured sigh left her lips.

Then, at last, she looked at him again.

A moment of silence.

Then—

"Who are you?"