The forest's grip loosened as Suyeon, Jinwoo, and Hana stumbled out of the mist, their breaths ragged, their bodies battered by the clash with Miran and her shadow foxes. Suyeon's arm burned, the yeomma's dark mark now a web of black veins creeping toward her throat, pulsing in rhythm with the curse that thundered in her chest. Her nine tails, hidden once more beneath a cloaking spell as thin as a dying flame, ached with the strain of her overtaxed power. Her legs trembled, each step a battle against collapse, but she pressed forward, driven by the need to outrun Miran's laughter and the yeomma's distant roar. Jinwoo limped beside her, his blood-soaked hanbok clinging to his frame, his amber-flecked eyes darting between her and the path ahead. Hana followed, her staff dragging in the dirt, its runes dim, her gray eyes clouded with exhaustion but sharp with vigilance. The forest gave way to a valley, where a village nestled among rolling hills, its lanterns glowing faintly through the dawn's haze.
The village was small, its wooden houses weathered, their roofs sagging under years of neglect. Smoke curled from chimneys, but the air carried a faint stench of ash and decay, as if the place had been touched by the same divine malice that hunted Suyeon. The curse pulsed, a warning that this was no sanctuary, but they had no choice. Miran's yeomma was out there, and the god's reach was tightening. Suyeon's vision blurred, the burn's pain searing, but she forced herself to stand tall, her cloak hiding the trembling of her hands.
"We need shelter," Hana said, her voice low, her staff tapping the ground as she scanned the village. "This place feels wrong, but it's better than the open forest. We can rest, tend our wounds." She glanced at Suyeon, her eyes narrowing. "And you need to deal with that mark before it kills you."
Suyeon's lips curled, a weak smirk masking her fear. "Worried about me, exorcist? That's new." Her voice was hoarse, the curse and the burn draining her faster than she could hide. She wanted to snap back, to push them away, but the truth was undeniable: she was weakening, and they were all targets now.
Jinwoo's hand brushed her arm, gentle but firm, and she flinched, her foxfire flickering unbidden. "She's right," he said, his voice rough but steady. "You're barely standing, Suyeon. Let us help." His wounds were worse, blood seeping through his bandage, his limp slowing him, but his eyes burned with the same stubborn resolve that had kept him by her side since Haeryong.
"Don't," Suyeon said, pulling away, her eyes flashing gold before she forced them back to brown. "You're bleeding worse than I am. Focus on yourself, warrior." But her words lacked venom, her gaze lingering on his face, the guilt of his wounds a weight heavier than the curse. He'd fought for her, bled for her, and his oath was a chain she couldn't break.
They approached the village, its dirt paths eerily quiet, the lanterns casting long shadows that seemed to writhe. A few villagers moved in the distance, their faces pale, their eyes hollow, as if the life had been drained from them. Suyeon's senses flared, the curse pulsing in warning. "This isn't right," she muttered, her hand hovering over her cloaked tails. "This place… it's marked."
Hana's runes glowed faintly, her staff raised. "Divine energy," she said, her voice tight. "Not as strong as the shrine, but it's here. Something's been feeding on this village." She glanced at Suyeon. "Your god, maybe?"
Suyeon's jaw tightened, the curse burning hotter. "She's not *my* god," she said, her voice low, but doubt gnawed at her. The pact tied her to the deity, and this village's decay felt too familiar, like the shrine's oppressive weight. They needed answers, but every step deeper into the village felt like a step toward a trap.
A woman emerged from a nearby house, her hair gray and tangled, her robes patched but clean. She carried a basket of herbs, her hands trembling as she approached. "Travelers," she said, her voice thin, her eyes darting nervously. "You're hurt. Come to my home. I have salves, bandages." Her gaze lingered on Suyeon, a flicker of recognition—or fear—passing through her eyes.
Jinwoo stepped forward, his hand on his sword. "We're grateful," he said, his voice polite but wary. "But we need to know what's happened here. The village feels… empty."
The woman's lips quivered, her eyes dropping to the ground. "Demons," she whispered. "They come at night, take our young, our strong. We offer prayers, but the gods don't answer." She glanced at Suyeon again, her hands tightening on the basket. "You… you're not like us."
Suyeon's heart sank, her cloaking spell straining. "I'm a healer," she lied, her voice smooth despite the pain. "We're just passing through." But the woman's fear was palpable, and Suyeon knew her guise wouldn't hold long. The curse pulsed, the burn spreading, and she felt the god's presence lingering, watching.
Hana's staff tapped the ground, her runes flaring. "Demons don't attack without reason," she said, her eyes on the woman. "What's drawing them? A shrine? A relic?"
The woman flinched, her basket slipping from her hands. Herbs scattered, their scent sharp in the air. "The old shrine," she whispered, her voice barely audible. "In the hills. We stopped praying there years ago, but… it calls them." She pointed to a ridge beyond the village, where a faint green glow pulsed through the mist.
Suyeon's curse flared, a searing pain that forced a gasp from her lips. Another shrine, another piece of the pact. She met Jinwoo's gaze, his eyes steady but worried. "We need to see it," she said, her voice low. "If it's tied to the god, it might have answers."
Hana nodded, her runes glowing brighter. "Agreed. But we rest first. You're no good to anyone dead, Kumiho." Her tone was sharp, but her eyes held a flicker of concern, a shift Suyeon didn't trust.
The woman led them to her home, a small house with a sagging roof and a fire burning low in the hearth. She offered bandages and salves, her hands trembling as she worked on Jinwoo's wounds. Suyeon sat by the fire, her arm hidden beneath her cloak, the burn's pain making her vision swim. She tried to focus, to piece together the pact's fragments, but the memories were slippery—blood, a temple, a god's cold smile. The woman's fear, the village's decay, the shrine's glow—it all pointed to the god's reach, and Suyeon was its target.
As the woman bandaged Jinwoo, she whispered, "You shouldn't go to the shrine. It's cursed. Those who enter don't return." Her eyes flicked to Suyeon, and she backed away, crossing her arms in a protective gesture.
Suyeon's lips curled, a bitter smile. "Cursed is my specialty," she said, rising despite the pain. "We'll take our chances." She stepped outside, the cold air biting, the green glow on the ridge calling her like a beacon. Jinwoo and Hana followed, their wounds bandaged but their faces grim.
The path to the shrine was steep, the hills dotted with twisted trees and broken stones. The air grew heavier, the curse pulsing in time with the green light. Suyeon's burn spread, its veins now visible on her neck, and she felt the god's presence stronger than ever. At the shrine's entrance, a stone gate carved with foxes loomed, its jade eyes watching. The curse roared, and a voice whispered: "Enter, Kumiho. Pay the price."
Suyeon's tails flickered, her cloaking spell breaking. Jinwoo's gasp was audible, but he didn't flinch, his sword drawn. Hana's runes flared, her staff ready. "This is it," Suyeon said, her voice steady despite the fear. "The pact's truth is here. If you follow, you might not come out."
Jinwoo's eyes met hers, unwavering. "I'm with you," he said, his voice soft but firm.
Hana nodded, her runes glowing. "For answers," she said, her tone grim. "Not for you."
Suyeon stepped through the gate, the curse burning, the burn's pain blinding. The shrine's interior was a cavern of stone and shadow, its walls carved with foxes and flames. A figure waited at the center—not the god, but Miran, her talisman glowing, her eyes green with divine power. "Welcome, Kumiho," she said, her voice a taunt. "The god awaits."
Suyeon's foxfire flared, her nine tails blazing. Jinwoo and Hana stood beside her, their weapons ready, their fates tied to hers. The shrine hummed, the pact's truth closing in, and Suyeon knew this was no escape—only a deeper plunge into the god's game.