The forest exhaled a damp chill, its mist curling around Suyeon like a lover's cold embrace as she knelt on the dew-soaked earth. The archway's ruins smoldered behind her, jagged stones scattered like broken bones, their jade eyes dulled to lifeless gray. Her chest heaved, each breath a struggle against the curse's relentless pulse, now entwined with the yeomma's burn that snaked across her shoulder, its dark veins pulsing toward her heart. Her nine tails, hidden once more beneath a cloaking spell stretched thin as spider silk, ached with the weight of her overtaxed power. The god's final words—"You cannot run forever, Kumiho"—rang in her ears, a taunt that burrowed deeper than the pain. Jinwoo crouched beside her, his bloodied hanbok clinging to his frame, his amber-flecked eyes searching her face with a concern that made her skin crawl. Hana stood a few paces away, her staff planted in the ground, its runes flickering weakly, her gray eyes scanning the trees for signs of pursuit. The forest was silent, but its stillness was a lie, heavy with the threat of what followed.
Suyeon's hands trembled as she pushed herself up, ignoring Jinwoo's outstretched hand. Her arm throbbed, the divine burn resisting her foxfire's attempts to heal it, its pain a constant reminder of the pact's tightening grip. A thousand years ago, she'd knelt before a god, her fur matted with the blood of her kin, begging for power to survive a world that hunted Kumihos to extinction. The god had granted it, but at a cost—her soul bound to servitude, her humanity a fading dream. She'd run from that truth, hiding in mortal guises, but the shrine, the yeomma, the shadow foxes, and now the god's fragment had found her. The pact was no longer dormant, and it demanded a price she couldn't pay—not without dragging Jinwoo and Hana into its jaws.
"You're not okay," Jinwoo said, his voice low, rough from pain and exhaustion. He stood, his sword sheathed but his hand ready, his shoulder's bandage soaked through with fresh blood. "That burn—it's worse. Let me look at it."
Suyeon's eyes flashed gold, her temper flaring despite her weakness. "Touch me, and you'll lose that hand," she snapped, stepping back, her cloak swirling. "I don't need your pity, warrior." Her voice was sharp, but her legs wobbled, betraying her. She hated his concern, hated the way his gaze pierced her defenses, seeing not the Kumiho but the woman she'd pretended to be. Yuna, the healer, was dead, but Jinwoo's stubborn loyalty refused to let her go.
Hana's staff tapped the ground, her runes casting faint light on the mist. "He's right," she said, her tone clipped but less hostile than before. "That mark is divine. It's feeding on your power, Kumiho. If you don't deal with it, you'll be dead before the god comes for you." She stepped closer, her gray eyes narrowing. "And don't think I'm here out of kindness. Whatever's hunting you is a threat to us all. I need answers."
Suyeon's laugh was bitter, echoing through the trees. "Answers," she said, her voice dripping with mockery. "You think I have them? I'm as lost as you are, exorcist." But that was only half-true. The pact's fragments were surfacing—memories of a temple, a god's cold smile, a promise she hadn't understood. She'd traded her soul for power, but the details were buried, locked away by the curse or her own refusal to face them. The archway's collapse, the god's fragment, the shadow foxes—they were all pieces of a puzzle she didn't want to solve.
Jinwoo's jaw tightened, his eyes unwavering. "You're not lost," he said, stepping closer, undeterred by her glare. "You fought that god in there. You faced it, even when it could've killed you. That's not someone who's running blind." He paused, his voice softening. "You saved us, Suyeon. Again. Let us help you."
Her chest ached, not just from the curse but from his words. She wanted to scream, to shove him away, to burn away the warmth his trust ignited. "You don't know what you're asking," she said, her voice low, almost a growl. "The pact isn't just about me. It's about blood, sacrifice. If you stay, you'll pay the price." She saw flashes of her past—lovers betrayed, allies lost, their faces fading into the centuries. Jinwoo's oath was a chain, binding him to her fate, and she couldn't bear the thought of his blood on her hands.
Hana's voice cut through, sharp and practical. "Enough," she said, her staff glowing brighter. "We're wasting time. The god's not done with you, and this forest isn't safe. Those shadow foxes were just the beginning. We need to move, find somewhere to regroup." She glanced at the archway's ruins, her runes flickering as if sensing residual power. "But first, tell us what you know about the pact. No more lies."
Suyeon's claws twitched, her foxfire stirring despite her exhaustion. "You don't get to demand anything," she said, her eyes narrowing. "You want to hunt me? Bind me? Go ahead. But you won't like the result." Her voice was steady, but her body betrayed her, swaying slightly, the burn's pain spreading like fire.
Hana's grip tightened on her staff, but she didn't raise it. "I'm not your enemy," she said, her tone softening, though her eyes remained sharp. "Not yet. But I've seen divine power like this before. It doesn't stop until it gets what it wants. If you don't know the pact's terms, we need to find out—before it kills us all."
Before Suyeon could retort, the forest shuddered. The mist swirled, parting to reveal a figure in the distance—a woman, her silhouette cloaked in shadow, her eyes glowing green. Not the god's fragment, but something else, something mortal yet touched by divine power. Her robes were tattered, her hair wild, and a talisman hung from her belt, pulsing with the same energy as the shrine's runes.
Hana's runes flared, her staff raised. "Another exorcist," she said, her voice tight. "But she's not one of mine."
Suyeon's senses sharpened, her foxfire flickering. The woman's presence was wrong, her energy a mix of mortal and divine, like a blade dipped in poison. "Who are you?" Suyeon called, her voice carrying through the mist.
The woman stepped closer, her face pale, her eyes burning with a fanatic's zeal. "I am Miran," she said, her voice low, melodic, but edged with menace. "Servant of the Fox God. You've defiled her shrine, Kumiho. You've broken the pact." Her talisman glowed, and the mist parted further, revealing a dozen shadow foxes at her heels, their black tails lashing, their eyes fixed on Suyeon.
Suyeon's heart sank, her tails itching to break free. "You're a puppet," she said, her voice steady despite the fear. "The god's using you, just like it's using me."
Miran's smile was cold, her eyes unyielding. "The god chose me," she said. "You betrayed her, Suyeon. You took her power and ran. Now, she demands your soul." She raised her talisman, and the shadow foxes lunged, their claws tearing through the mist.
Suyeon's foxfire erupted, her nine tails breaking free, their silver light blinding. She slashed through the nearest fox, its form dissolving into ash, but more came, their numbers overwhelming. Jinwoo fought beside her, his sword carving through shadows, his wounds slowing him but his will unbroken. Hana's talismans burned, binding the foxes, but Miran's power countered her, the exorcist's runes flickering out.
"You can't win," Miran said, her voice a taunt as she stepped closer, her talisman glowing brighter. "The god's will is absolute. Surrender, Kumiho, or they die for you."
Suyeon's vision blurred, the burn and the curse draining her. She saw Jinwoo stagger, a shadow fox's claw grazing his arm. Hana fell to one knee, her staff cracking. They were fighting for her, bleeding for her, and the guilt was a weight heavier than the pact. She raised her hands, her tails blazing, and unleashed a wave of foxfire that consumed the shadow foxes, the forest trembling under the force. Miran staggered, her talisman dimming, but she laughed, unharmed.
"You're weak," Miran said, her eyes gleaming. "The pact has claimed you already." She raised her talisman, and the ground shook, a new shadow rising—a yeomma, smaller than the first but no less deadly, its eyes burning green.
Suyeon's strength faltered, her tails fading, her body trembling. Jinwoo caught her, his blood mixing with hers. "Suyeon," he whispered, his voice urgent. "Don't give up."
Hana struggled to her feet, her face pale but her eyes fierce. "We need to retreat," she said, her voice strained. "There's a village beyond the ravine. We can find shelter, regroup."
Suyeon nodded, her breath ragged. She leaned on Jinwoo, his warmth a lifeline she didn't want to need. They fled, Miran's laughter echoing behind them, the yeomma's roar shaking the trees. The forest blurred, the mist closing in, but Suyeon felt the pact's pull stronger than ever. With Jinwoo's oath, Hana's uneasy alliance, and Miran's pursuit, she was running out of places to hide—and time to escape the god's wrath.