Chapter 12
1327words
He tried every path, every shortcut, every energy signal, desperate to reach Kenren. But nothing connected. The link kept severing midway, leaving him cold, breathless, and utterly miserable.
It had been so little time since they met, yet Mosu had already breached every defense around Leoran’s heart—cracking open a comfort zone no one else had dared to approach.
Leoran didn’t just accept how Mosu was changing him; he welcomed it.
But a primal terror clawed at him—the terror of growing close again.
Because he knew the searing agony of profound loss. And he would not endure that pain again. Not now. Not ever.
Still, he ran. With every last reserves of strength, he pushed onward.
"Hey, wake up!" he screamed, his voice raw, cracking with desperation.
Perhaps... just perhaps, his sheer will could reach through to him.
He neared the Hill District, but the suffocating tension refused to lift. The moment his feet touched Valeroc, the Bridge of Crows, the very air shifted.
It thickened. The light bled away.
It was called the Bridge of Crows for a reason: the sky above was a suffocating mass of black wings. Crows—countless, unnatural—never ceased their vigil. Never ceased their waiting.
A voice drifted from above, echoing with an unsettling calm.
"There, there... where are you going in such a rush?"
Leoran's head snapped up.
A boy perched on a high branch. Black hair obscured half his face, the other hidden behind a cracked crow mask. His cloak, long and tattered, seemed woven from shadows. Beneath the mask, deep blue eyes gleamed—sharp, charming, yet undeniably dangerous.
Before Leoran could react, Cowl struck.
A burst of dark energy erupted from his hand, conjuring dozens of "clown-crows" from the shadows. They swarmed Leoran like a plague. He staggered, twisting to shield Mosu's body as both crashed violently to the ground.
But Leoran moved with a speed he hadn't known he possessed.
He twisted mid-fall, using his own back as a human shield for Mosu. They slammed hard against a tree trunk. Leoran winced, a burning pain searing through his chest—but he didn't falter. He scrambled up, swiftly gathering fallen leaves to form a makeshift bed, and gently laid Mosu's unconscious form down.
Then he turned—eyes blazing with a furious intensity—and seized a crow by its neck.
He crushed another. Brutally.
This wasn't his usual fight. He had no room for hesitation, no luxury to hold back.
This wasn't about pride. Nor was it simply about survival.
He was fighting for time.
Cowl's expression flickered, a flicker of genuine surprise.
Then—he moved. A blur. His fist, a dark blur, slammed directly into Leoran's jaw.
Leoran recoiled, flipping back mid-air, yet instantly launched a clean counter-punch that snapped across Cowl's cheek.
Cowl stumbled, a brief crack in his composure.
This boy... is dangerous.
Leoran knew he couldn't remain. His mind already raced, plotting his next desperate escape—
But before Cowl could lunge again—
A wall of searing heat detonated, smashing into Cowl like a meteor.
He flew backward, crashing hard against a rock wall, a hiss escaping as flames scorched the edge of his cloak.
Someone else had arrived.
She stood at the far end of the bridge, a statue of calm. Her eyes were cold, her presence utterly controlled, an immovable force.
Her gaze swept the scene, then fixed on Leoran.
"He is that child..." she mused, her eyes narrowing.
Then she noticed Mosu.
"...But who is that boy?"
Before Leoran could utter a word, Cowl's voice, smooth and mocking, cut through the tense air.
"Ohhh~ I didn't know I had new guests here..."
The air crackled, growing razor-sharp.
"You can go, kid," Rikiya stated, stepping toward Cowl. "I'll handle this."
Leoran hesitated.
"Tch..." Cowl scoffed, rolling his eyes. "Such a predictable play."
His tone dripped with mockery, yet a strange, unsettling honesty resonated in his words—like someone who had witnessed this exact pattern play out countless times before, someone who inherently understood the unfolding drama.
Still, Cowl didn't cease his taunts.
"I don't know what's happening," Leoran muttered, barely standing, "but I need to go."
He spun, grabbing Mosu once more, and bolted, leaving the brewing conflict behind him.
"You're a coward," Rikiya's voice cut through the air, aimed directly at Cowl. "Going after children—one of them unconscious."
Her words stung.
But Cowl merely offered a crooked smile. "So what?" he drawled with a dry laugh. "The morals you humans love so much... they don't apply to us."
Rikiya's eyes narrowed to slits. Her voice dropped, growing lethally cold.
"You're one of the demons who attacked Alomega, aren't you?"
Cowl tilted his head, a gesture of lazy amusement.
"Pft... what are you saying?"
He chuckled, a sound devoid of warmth.
"You think I needed anyone else to kill those... mere creatures?"
"Creatures."
The single word struck Rikiya like a shard of ice, chilling her to the bone.
She took one deliberate step forward.
"Let's see how long you keep that smirk."
Scene Break
When the Wind Held Its Breath
"Hey... we just made it..."
The words spilled from Leoran's lips—not joy, but a fragile relief, disbelief clinging to every syllable.
A sudden, dizzying release surged through his body... but something was wrong.
The heartbeat.
The faint, fluttering pulse that had vibrated against his back the entire way—a desperate rhythm against his own—
had fallen silent.
Like a sea gone still.
Like waves that had simply drowned.
The face pressed against his shoulder, the one he'd felt breathing softly in sync with his footsteps,
was now utterly motionless.
A mouth that had never stopped yapping—that filled every hour with complaints, elaborate theories, and soft, endearing insults—
was now sealed.
Marked by burns. By scrapes.
But more than anything, marked by an unbearable silence.
It was the first time Leoran had ever known silence... from Mosu.
And it shattered him.
"Hey... we made it. See? We're here. We came home, idiot..."
He smiled. Or tried to.
But his lips trembled too violently to hold the shape.
His heart—it still fiercely rejected the truth.
Still clung to a desperate, impossible hope.
"Oii... Old man! Where are you?!"
His voice cracked, a desperate plea shouted into the empty air.
It echoed, swallowed by the silent streets of Hill District.
No answer.
"Kenren?!"
No response.
Only the wind—brushing past him like a cruel, mocking whisper.
He began to stumble, blindly poking at walls, calling louder, rattling doors, screaming into corners like a ghost chasing someone who was tragically absent.
But no trace of Kenren was found.
His knees buckled beneath him.
"ARGHHH...!"
A guttural roar. A broken sob. A scream wrapped in raw, consuming fire.
Tears fell like waterfalls.
Hot. Unstoppable. Crashing onto Mosu's arm.
It was too much.
Too much to carry.
Too much to accept.
Too much to survive.
"Hey, wake up!"
Leoran's voice, now hoarse, cracked as he shook Mosu again.
He tried to use his Wind Breathing—pushing energy into Mosu's chest.
One pulse.
Again and again.
But nothing happened.
His wind wasn't designed for this.
You needed to be a high-level chakra controller to manipulate wind for healing...
And he wasn't.
"I'm useless," he choked out, the words barely audible.
His sobs grew deeper, louder, echoing his profound despair.
Each futile gust of wind felt like trying to gather pearls from an empty, shattered shell.
But sometimes—just sometimes—life offers a single, reckless chance to override the rules.
Leoran's hands trembled violently.
He placed both palms firmly on Mosu's chest... and did the only thing left.
He poured in half of his own life force.
A blinding surge of wind exploded through the air—
It cracked the walls. The roof groaned. The ground convulsed.
The entire house shook violently from the sheer force.
A single heartbeat.
Then another.
Mosu's chest rose.
Leoran smiled through his tears, a shaky, overwhelmed expression.
"You owe me this time... you idiot."
And with that whispered promise,
he collapsed beside him—
half-dead, but utterly victorious.
