The beast's roar rattled the grasslands, freezing Reika's blood. The Frostfang Sabra's sabers of ice gleamed, mist curling from its jaws. Every instinct screamed at her to run.
"Minami-kun!" she hissed, clutching his sleeve.
Katsusora's panel flashed red, lines of data cascading across his vision:
[Risk Scan]– Frostfang Sabra (Ice Attribute Predator)– Fatality Probability (Current): 74%– Engagement Chance: 63%– Retreat Probability: 41%
He forced his breath steady. Seventy-four percent was not certainty. There was a gap — a sliver.
His voice cut through the panic. "Reika-san, don't move. Not yet. It's not committed."
Her wide eyes darted between him and the monster. "What do you mean 'not committed'? That thing's about to kill us!"
"Seventy-four percent probability." His glasses caught the light as he adjusted them. "Which means twenty-six percent chance it doesn't."
She gawked. "You're actually gambling on the other twenty-six?!"
"Not gambling. Calculating."
Before she could argue, the caravan guards shouted from the road. "Sabra! Formation!"
Steel scraped from sheaths. The men and women guarding the wagons snapped into a half-circle, spears leveled. Their leader barked commands, voice carrying sharp authority.
Reika's heart thudded. These weren't exhausted office workers. They were fighters, trained for this exact threat.
The Sabra prowled closer, paws silent on the frosted grass. Its crystalline eyes flicked between prey and defense. The air shimmered with cold.
Katsusora's panel shifted again.
[Updated Risk]– Fatality Probability (Group): 48%– Retreat Probability: 52%
He exhaled in relief. "There. Look—its odds just shifted. It's testing, not striking."
Reika blinked, then focused. Sure enough, the monster's steps slowed, shoulders lowering, tail twitching. The growl in its throat wasn't hunger alone; it was hesitation.
One guard shouted, "Keep the line! Don't provoke it!"
The leader stepped forward, cloak snapping in the cold air. His scarred face was calm, eyes sharp as he held his spear steady.
"Frostfangs don't fight unless cornered," he said loudly, more for his squad than the beast. "Stay firm. Make it see strength."
The Sabra snarled once, frost curling over the ground. Then, with an almost disdainful flick of its head, it turned. Muscles coiled, then released — it bounded back toward the treeline, snow-crusted grass scattering under its paws. Within seconds, it was gone.
The silence that followed was deafening.
Reika's knees nearly gave out. She exhaled a shaky laugh, half sob, half relief. "It… it ran?"
Katsusora's panel dimmed. [Threat Retreated: Immediate Risk Nullified.]
He adjusted his glasses again, more to hide the trembling in his hands than to see better. "As I said. Not a hundred percent."
Reika shoved his shoulder weakly. "You're insane. Do you realize if you were wrong, we'd be Sabra ice cubes right now?"
A soft chime rang in both their panels.
[Love Point Acquired: Mutual Trust]
They froze, exchanging startled glances. Neither spoke of it, but the meaning was clear. That terrifying moment — she trusting his call, him standing firm with her at his side — had forged something invisible between them.
"Oi, you two!" a voice snapped.
They turned. The caravan guards had noticed them on the slope. Several pointed spears their way until the leader raised his hand.
"Strangers," the man barked. His tone wasn't hostile, but wary. "Why are you out here? Frostfang territory isn't for wandering."
Reika swallowed, mind racing. How were they supposed to explain falling out of Tokyo into a medieval grassland?
Before she could speak, Katsusora stepped forward, inclining his head slightly. "We saw the beast approaching. I warned my companion not to move. Your formation was what drove it away."
The leader's eyes narrowed, studying him. "You noticed it before us?"
Katsusora hesitated, then said carefully, "You could say I… analyze risks."
Reika resisted the urge to groan. Only Katsusora would describe almost getting mauled by a saber-tooth as 'analyzing risks.'
The leader gave a short, approving grunt. "Sharp eyes. You saved us time to react. Not bad, for wanderers."
He strode closer, boots crunching frost. Up close, his presence was imposing — weathered armor, scar down one cheek, and an aura of authority born from years on the road.
"I am Darius Veylan," he introduced himself briskly. "Squad captain of the Aurelia Grain Convoy." He gestured back at the wagons. "We're moving food to the capital. The kingdom's starving, so every sack counts. That Sabra could've ruined us."
Reika's system pulsed. [Prosperity Web: Thread Confirmed – Resource Flow: Capital Shortage]. She bit her lip. The system wasn't lying — those wagons weren't luxury shipments. They were survival.
Darius eyed them again. "You're lucky the beast didn't test you instead. Frostfangs love lone prey."
Reika tried to steady her voice. "We… we didn't mean to wander here. Honestly, we're lost."
The captain studied her carefully. For a moment, his gaze softened. "Lost or not, you've got spirit. I've seen enough panic to know the difference. Most would have bolted screaming. You stood your ground."
Reika blinked. She hadn't stood her ground at all — she had clung to Katsusora's sleeve like a terrified child. Yet somehow, hearing that… her heart steadied.
Darius clapped a hand to his side. "We're headed back to Aurelia's capital. If you've nowhere else, come with us. Better the city than freezing to death out here."
Katsusora and Reika exchanged a look. Both still shaken, but both realizing the same thing: this was their first thread of connection.
Reika exhaled, forcing a shaky smile. "We'd… appreciate that."
The captain nodded. "Then stay close. And pray the Sabra doesn't circle back."
He returned to his squad, barking orders to reform. The caravan creaked forward again, wheels grinding on frozen soil.
Reika finally let her shoulders slump. "Minami-kun," she whispered, voice thin. "I thought we were dead."
He adjusted his glasses, hiding the faint tremor in his hand. "…So did I. But probability gave us an opening. And you trusted me."
She looked at him — really looked — and for a heartbeat, the fear and relief tangled into something warmer. Her lips curved weakly. "Don't get used to it."
But the faint blush in her cheeks said otherwise.
Behind them, the frost in the grass still lingered, pawprints leading back into the treeline. And though the Frostfang Sabra was gone, Katsusora's Risk Scan flickered one last line across his vision:
[Note: Predator remains in territory. Risk: Ongoing.]