The clearing offered no respite, its silence a fragile veil over the forest's watchful eyes. Suyeon knelt in the damp grass, her breath shallow, her body trembling as the yeomma's burn pulsed through her, its dark veins now threading across her chest like roots of a poisoned tree. The curse in her heart thundered, each beat a reminder of the pact's tightening grip—a thousand-year-old bargain with a god whose face she could barely recall, but whose wrath she felt in every fiber of her being. Her nine tails, hidden beneath a cloaking spell as thin as a dying ember, ached with the strain of her dwindling power, the foxfire that had once burned like a star now a flickering spark. Jinwoo crouched beside her, his blood-soaked hanbok clinging to his frame, his amber-flecked eyes searching her face with a stubborn resolve that both anchored and infuriated her. Hana stood a few paces away, her staff planted in the earth, its runes barely glowing, her gray eyes scanning the trees for Miran's shadow or the yeomma's return. The air was heavy with the scent of wet earth and lingering divine malice, and the forest seemed to hold its breath, waiting for the next move in the god's relentless game.
Suyeon's arm throbbed, the burn's pain a constant fire that resisted her foxfire's attempts to heal it. She pressed a hand to her chest, feeling the curse's rhythm merge with the burn's venom, a dual assault that threatened to unravel her. Miran's laughter echoed in her mind, her words—"The god will find you"—a taunt that burrowed deeper than the pain. The shrine, the shadow foxes, the yeomma, the god's fragment—they were all pieces of a puzzle she'd spent centuries avoiding, but the pact was no longer content to let her run. It wanted her soul, and it was willing to take Jinwoo and Hana's lives to get it.
"We can't stay here," Hana said, her voice sharp, cutting through the clearing's stillness. Her staff tapped the ground, its runes flickering as if struggling against the forest's oppressive energy. "Miran's tracking us, and that yeomma wasn't the last. You're falling apart, Kumiho. If you don't deal with that burn, you'll be dead before we find answers." Her gray eyes met Suyeon's, a mix of suspicion and reluctant concern. "And don't think I'm doing this for you. Whatever's hunting you is a threat to everyone."
Suyeon's lips curled, a weak smirk masking the fear clawing at her. "You're all heart, exorcist," she said, her voice hoarse, the burn's pain making it waver. She pushed herself up, swaying, her cloaking spell straining to hide the tremble in her hands. "But you're right. We move, or we die." She didn't know where to go—only that standing still was a death sentence. The god's reach was everywhere, its presence a shadow that lingered in the mist, the trees, the very air she breathed.
Jinwoo rose, his limp more pronounced, his bloodied bandage a stark contrast against his pale skin. "Suyeon," he said, his voice rough but steady, "you're not doing this alone. I swore an oath, and I'm keeping it." He stepped closer, his hand hovering as if to steady her, but he stopped short, respecting her earlier warning. His amber eyes burned with a fire that made her chest ache, a reminder of the lives she'd destroyed by letting mortals get too close.
"Stop it," she snapped, her eyes flashing gold before she forced them back to brown. "Your oath is going to get you killed, Jinwoo. You don't know what you're dealing with." Her voice cracked, memories surging—faces of those who'd trusted her, loved her, only to fall when her truth was revealed. A merchant's son, burned by exorcists. A priestess, torn apart by demons. Each one a wound she carried, heavier than the curse itself. "Walk away while you still can."
He shook his head, his jaw tight. "I've seen what you are," he said, his voice low, unwavering. "All nine tails, all your power. And I've seen you fight for us, Suyeon. That's enough for me." He paused, his eyes softening. "You're not a monster. You're just… lost."
Her heart twisted, his words a blade she didn't want to feel. "You're wrong," she said, her voice barely above a whisper. "I've done things you can't imagine. The pact isn't just a curse—it's a debt. And it's coming for us all." She turned away, her cloak swirling, and started down the path, the forest's shadows closing in. She didn't know where she was going, only that she needed distance from Miran, from the god, from the guilt Jinwoo's trust ignited.
Hana followed, her staff tapping rhythmically. "He's naive, but he's not wrong," she said, her tone grudging. "You're not fighting just for yourself anymore. That god threatened us too. If we're going to survive, we need to know what the pact is. What did you trade, Kumiho? What does she want?"
Suyeon's claws twitched, her foxfire stirring despite her exhaustion. "I don't remember," she said, her voice low, bitter. "Not all of it. I was young, desperate. My kin were being hunted, slaughtered. I begged a god for power to survive, and she gave it—at a cost." She paused, her hand brushing the burn on her arm, its pain a reminder of the pact's price. "My soul, my freedom. I thought I could outrun it, live as a mortal. But I was wrong."
Hana's eyes narrowed, but she didn't press. "Then we need to find out," she said, her voice practical. "There's a temple in the mountains, older than the shrine. It's a place of forgotten gods, where exorcists once trained. If the pact's tied to a deity, there might be records, something to tell us what we're facing."
Suyeon nodded, her strength fading but her resolve hardening. "Then we go there," she said, her voice steady despite the pain. "But don't expect answers to save us. The god's playing a game, and we're just pieces."
The path wound through the valley, the hills rising into jagged peaks shrouded in mist. The village's lanterns faded behind them, their faint glow swallowed by the dawn's gray light. The air grew colder, the forest thinner, giving way to rocky slopes dotted with twisted pines. Suyeon's burn spread, its veins now visible on her throat, and the curse pulsed in time with her steps, each one a reminder of the god's relentless pursuit. Jinwoo and Hana kept pace, their wounds slowing them but their determination unyielding.
As they climbed, the air thickened, the mist curling into shapes that seemed to watch—foxes, flames, chains. Suyeon's senses flared, the curse burning hotter. A low growl echoed, and the ground trembled, rocks tumbling down the slope. She froze, her foxfire flickering, her tails itching to break free. "It's here," she said, her voice low, urgent.
Hana's runes flared, her staff raised. "Another yeomma," she said, her voice tight. "Stronger than the last." Her gray eyes scanned the mist, where a massive form took shape—molten-iron hide, six legs, eyes glowing green. It was larger, its presence heavier, its hunger a palpable force that pressed against Suyeon's senses.
Jinwoo drew his sword, his stance firm despite his wounds. "Stay behind me," he said, his voice steady, but Suyeon could see the blood seeping through his bandage, his face pale with pain.
"No," she said, stepping in front of him, her foxfire flaring. "This is my fight." Her tails broke free, all nine blazing silver, illuminating the slope. The yeomma roared, its claws tearing through the earth, and Suyeon met it head-on, her foxfire forming a spear of light that struck its chest. The creature screamed, its hide cracking, but it didn't fall, its eyes burning with divine wrath.
Hana's talismans burned, binding the yeomma's legs, but its power overwhelmed her, her runes flickering out. Jinwoo's sword slashed, drawing ichor, but the yeomma's claw caught him, hurling him into a tree. He hit with a sickening crunch, blood spraying, and Suyeon's heart lurched.
"Jinwoo!" she shouted, her foxfire erupting in a wave that drove the yeomma back. She rushed to his side, her hands glowing as she pressed them to his chest, healing his wounds despite her own fading strength. His eyes fluttered open, his breath ragged, but he managed a weak smile.
"Not… done yet," he rasped, his hand gripping hers.
Hana fought on, her talismans burning, but the yeomma broke free, its roar shaking the slope. Suyeon rose, her tails blazing, and unleashed a storm of foxfire that consumed the creature, its form dissolving into ash. She collapsed, her tails fading, her body drained. The burn spread, its veins now curling around her heart, and the curse roared, a voice whispering: "The price is near."
Hana knelt beside them, her face pale, her staff cracked. "We can't keep this up," she said, her voice strained. "The temple's close, but you're running out of time, Kumiho."
Suyeon nodded, leaning on Jinwoo, his warmth a lifeline she didn't want to need. The mountains loomed, the temple's shadow waiting, and with Miran's pursuit and the god's relentless game, Suyeon knew the pact's truth was closing in—a truth that might cost them everything.