The Price For Freedom

He ran through the forest, seeing that some of the hounds and danger beasts were drawn by the blood and the fire of the estate. Their hungry growls and the snapping of jaws echoed through the trees as they searched for fresh prey. The air was thick with the scent of death, making the creatures more frenzied.

Every beast he encountered lunged at him with the intent to kill, but Shin struck back with deadly precision, cutting them down one by one. His movements were swift and calculated, his red blade flashing under the moonlight as he defended himself. Yet, even as he fought, he felt the fox-kin's energy fading ever so slowly, a painful reminder that he was running out of time.

His breath came in ragged pants as he pushed forward, slashing through another beast that leapt at him from the shadows. Blood splattered across his already stained clothes, but he did not falter. He could not afford to.

As he fought, his body instinctively reverted to his human form, his fox ears vanishing, his nine tails retracting, and his hair shortening. The change allowed him to blend into the darkness, making him less of a target for the creatures still lurking in the night.

As more danger loomed ahead, he cast his gaze skyward, his voice hoarse with desperation.

"Moon Goddess, don't let me be too late. Please... just let me save her."

He rushed toward the girl, his heart pounding as he found her slumped against a tree. A pool of blood surrounded her, the deep wounds across her body telling the story of her suffering.

Her breathing was shallow, her skin deathly pale. She was slipping away.

"No! No, no, no, no! This isn't fucking happening. Please, get up!"

He shook her gently, desperation creeping into his voice, but she remained unresponsive. Her eyelids fluttered, consciousness fading fast. He clenched his jaw, glancing up at the moon before shouting into the night.

"Fucking help me here! Come on!"

His ears twitched, a buried memory surfacing. His breath came in short bursts as he muttered to himself, doubt warring with urgency.

"What if... No! She'd hate me for it."

He groaned, looking down at her fragile form, the chill of her skin making his stomach twist. His mind raced, torn between hesitation and necessity.

There was one thing he could do, something forbidden, something irreversible. His hands trembled as doubt clawed at him.

'If I use it… she might never forgive me.'

Yet, every second wasted brought her closer to death. The faint rise and fall of her chest grew weaker.

Time was running out. He clenched his jaw, his heart hammering in his chest.

'Damn it, there's no choice.'

"I hope you won't hate me for this."

Summoning the language of his ancestors, he whispered an incantation known only to ancient foxes. As the words passed his lips, the wind stirred, swirling leaves around them.

The rain, once relentless, began to slow, each drop falling more gently as if heeding his call. The moonlight grew brighter, piercing through the dissipating storm clouds, casting an ethereal glow over the forest.

It was as if the sky itself had turned its gaze upon them, the moon shining like a celestial spotlight, illuminating the scene in silvery radiance. Nature itself seemed to respond, the air thick with energy, acknowledging the weight of his plea.

He leaned in, pressing his lips softly against hers. A faint glow enveloped them both, and suddenly, her wounds began to mend at an unnatural speed.

The magic worked, but the toll was heavy. He felt his mana drain rapidly, his body growing weaker by the second. As their connection solidified, a silent pact was forged between them, something far older and deeper than mere healing.

A searing pain shot through his left hand. He clenched his fist as burning symbols etched themselves into his skin, intricate lines forming a crest... his crest.

The mark pulsed with a faint glow, binding them together like the sacred contracts of old, where their lives are forever linked. He did not know how much of himself he had given her, nor what it would mean in the days to come, but one thing was clear: until she regained her strength, she was now tied to him, drawing from his very essence.

As the spell completed, he pulled away, his vision swimming. He exhaled sharply, steadying himself before lifting her into his arms.

Before leaving, he raided what remained of the Lichtenstein estate, collecting gold, jewelry, and any valuables they could use for trade or emergencies. He moved swiftly through the ruined halls, his steps silent, wary of any lingering threats.

When he was satisfied, he carried her through the charred remains of the manor, making his way toward the Guild's awaiting carriage just beyond the estate's border.

The journey back was quiet, save for the steady sound of the wheels rolling against the dirt. He kept checking on her, ensuring she stayed hydrated, tipping a waterskin to her lips whenever she stirred.

Relief flooded him when her breathing remained steady. Though unconscious, her body was no longer failing. His shoulders sagged in exhaustion.

George, the coachman, glanced at him through the rear-view mirror. "Shin," he called out, his voice calm yet laced with curiosity. "What happened back there? The fire, the screams... Did you really take down the Lichtensteins?"

Shin remained silent for a moment, staring at the unconscious girl in his arms. He didn't want to think about what had transpired, let alone talk about it. The weight of the night pressed against him, suffocating in its finality.

"I'm tired, George," he muttered, his voice low and drained. "Just... let it be for now."

George studied him for a moment before nodding in understanding. "Fair enough," he said, turning his focus back to the road. "You did what you had to. Get some rest while you can."

Shin said nothing more, leaning his head back against the wooden frame of the carriage. The steady motion and rhythmic sound of the wheels threatened to lull him to sleep, but his mind remained restless, haunted by the echoes of battle.

When the carriage reached the Guild, he forced himself to stand. With a sigh, he draped his hakama gi robe over the girl, leaving his scarred body exposed to the cool night air. There was no helping it. He needed to make sure she was covered.

As he entered the Guild, the familiar face of Yuri greeted him. Her eyes widened when she saw the injured fox-kin in his arms, a gasp escaping her lips.

"She needs medical attention," Yuri said, concern evident in her voice.

He offered a tired smile. "She's healing, just unconscious. Most of the wounds have closed."

Still, Yuri's worry did not fade. "Can I prepare a room for her?"

"Can I still use my room? I want to keep an eye on her if you won't mind."

She nodded, offering him a kind smile. "Of course, sir. This way."

She led him to the same room he had used before. It was undisturbed, waiting for him as if he had never left. He laid the girl gently on the bed, then turned to Yuri.

"Can you clean her up and bring her fresh clothes? I promise I'll pay you."

Yuri shook her head. "No need to pay me. I'll help in any way I can."

After some time, Yuri finished giving her a sponge bath and dressed her in a simple shirt and long skirt. Once done, she called Shin back into the room. He gave a grateful nod before rolling out a makeshift bed on the floor using the comforter Yuri had provided.

He stepped into the shower, scrubbing away the layers of blood, grime, and exhaustion clinging to his skin. The hot water burned against his wounds, but he let it wash over him, allowing himself a rare moment of reprieve.

The wounds should have been healed by now, yet he could still feel the sting of them, an odd sensation that gnawed at the edge of his thoughts. He frowned, noticing a tattoo on his left hand, something that hadn't been there before.

Raising an eyebrow, he had a nagging suspicion that what he did earlier had something to do with it. But for now, he needed to check the condition of the woman. As he stepped out, he glanced toward the bed, exhaling.

The hard part was far from over.

He still needed to report to Guild Master Davis. That would be a conversation he couldn't avoid. The weight of the events pressed heavily on him, but exhaustion was stronger.

He sat down beside the girl, watching her steady breathing. The rise and fall of her chest reassured him, though the scars on her body were a harsh reminder of what she had endured. He traced the edge of his knuckles along his jaw, deep in thought.

For now, though, he closed the curtains, blocking out the first light of dawn. Lying down on his makeshift bed, he shut his eyes, letting the fatigue finally take him. Sleep came quickly, though his last thought lingered on the girl.

She had survived.

Now, he could only hope she would wake up soon.