The carriage rattled north out of Skyridge, leaving the city's noise behind. Saturu watched the pine forests blur past, his mind on the problem ahead.
'Finding the Viperis toxin antidote will be hard enough. Now this.'
The main road was blocked by the city guard, evacuating people who had fled the dark mist. Only those with official passcards were granted access to the North Villa.
The long, winding detour would cost him a full day. Time was not on his side. The only path forward was through. 'Even if it means I must use stealth.'
"Stop here," Saturu said, his voice cutting through the rumble of wheels.
The driver pulled over, confused. "Sir, the next gate is still a mile ahead. You can't take this path—it's affected by the mist."
"I just came to collect something." Saturu passed a handful of coins through the window. "This is far enough."
Shaking his head, the driver took the money and turned his team around, leaving Saturu alone on the wooded roadside.
His plan was simple: bypass the perimeter through the dense forest bordering the estate. He melted into the treeline, moving with a silence that belonged to assassins, not knights.
He had barely gone two hundred yards toward the wall when a sharp voice called out.
"...Tch."
A shadow moved.
"You there! Are you with the third unit?" A guard stood at the edge of a cleared entry point, peering into the gloom.
He'd mistaken Saturu's purposeful movement for a late-arriving backup.
Before Saturu could answer or vanish, the guard gestured urgently. "Forget the perimeter! We need you! One of the knights is down—the mist got her. Get her to the field camp, now!"
There was no time to refuse without raising an alarm. Saturu stepped into the open.
The woman lay propped against a tree, her breathing shallow. She wore the distinct, double-breasted gray coat of the Southern Arizona Empire's knights, the gold sword-and-wings emblem gleaming dully.
A stab of cold recognition went through him. 'Empire knights.' The very institution that had ratified his execution.
He hesitated for a single, loaded second. Then he pushed the memory down. This wasn't about the past; it was an obstacle in his present. He knelt, sliding her arm over his shoulder.
Her eyes fluttered open, glassy with pain, but her voice held the iron of command. "Northwest… three hundred paces. The camp."
'She still has the energy to talk.' He hoisted her into a carry on his back, her weight solid and real, and began to move.
He recalled the guards' earlier discussion. The mist targeted mana-bearers exclusively—deadly on contact. For non-magical civilians, it induced severe illness. It might even be contagious, though that was unproven.
The pieces clicked into place. The mist poisoned those with mana. That was why the mages and knights were affected.
Saturu glanced at the woman on his back. She was conscious. Her mana level must be naturally low—the only reason she had suffered fewer effects.
And for him? The mist was just fog. He had no mana for it to attack. His greatest weakness had become his perfect shield.
---
The campsite was a scene of organized desperation. Makeshift tents housed groaning soldiers and mages. Healers moved between them, their faces drawn.
Saturu delivered the knight to a harried medic.
The medic nodded briskly, already calling for assistance. The knight gave Saturu a faint, barely perceptible nod of thanks before her eyes closed in exhausted relief.
"There are too many of them," one young attendant whispered to another, his hands trembling as he worked on an elderly woman. "The poison is too potent. I can't purge it fast enough, and we don't have enough herbs to finish in time." The despair in his voice was palpable.
"We need help here!" the lead attendant rasped, his eyes wide with a mix of hope and exhaustion. He gestured frantically for Saturu to follow.
"This way. Quickly. We don't have much time."
Inside the main tent, the scale of the tragedy unfolded. Dozens of injured and poisoned people lay on thin mats.
A handful of attendants moved among them, faces grim with determination as they used acupuncture needles in a desperate attempt to heal and slow the corrupt energy's flow. It was a battle they were losing.
'The uniforms others are wearing are different from the one that lady wore. Is this a collaboration between the Southern Arizona Empire and another organization?' Saturu thought.
The lead attendant with deep lines of fatigue etched on his face—simply nodded, too weary for formalities.
"The technique we're using is—" His instructions died in his throat, his eyes widening in sheer disbelief.
Saturu was already moving. His presence flowed through the room like a swift, silent current. He didn't need instruction. He began blocking and slowing the poison's spread from the mist.
'This technique still works in this era.'
Unlike other healing that used mana, this one utilized spiritual energy—a technique his Supreme General of War, Lumina, had recommended when they were once afflicted by a poisonous beast.
"You should rest," Saturu said, his voice not unkind but carrying absolute authority.
"That's not an option!" the man grunted, his face pale and beaded with sweat, his eyes burning with desperate, pained determination. He clutched a deep, blackened gash on his shoulder. "If I stay here, if we don't contain it, we're going to lose more people than just those in this room! The entire region could fall!"
Saturu finally looked at him, his gaze analytical, taking in the man's injuries and the residual energy clinging to him. His coat bore many badges. It was clear this person was the captain of this operation.
Captain Kaldrin of the First Unit.
The presence of so many wounded civilians and his own men was troubling, but for a trained soldier to be brought to this brink...
"Tell me what happened to you," Saturu commanded, his tone leaving no room for refusal.
A flicker of primal fear crossed the Captain's eyes, the memory clearly still raw. "I was attacked by a Cursed humanoid beast at the North Villa." He swallowed hard.
"But it was unlike anything we've ever faced. Its body... was made of dark teal skin with red veins, like solidified misery. Its eyes were just... bright red lights, and it looked like it was always crying.
The miasma it emits isn't just an aura; it's a plague. It drains the life force of anyone nearby. Our mission was to destroy it... but we failed. It shattered our formations. It was a massacre."
"Where is the Cursed humanoid beast now?" Saturu asked, his voice low and steady.
"Don't worry about it leaving its territory..." Kaldrin coughed, a speck of black blood appearing on his lip.
"It's inhabiting the ruins of that town, the place of its death. It won't leave. It's festering there, and it won't stop until everything in that place, every memory, every life, is drowned in its sorrow."
Saturu placed a hand on the man's uninjured shoulder, a gesture both calming and immobilizing. "I will take care of this," he said, his tone final.
"What are you planning to do? You'll get yourself killed! You didn't see it! You don't understand what it's capable of!" Kaldrin protested, trying to shrug off the hand that felt as heavy as a mountain.
Saturu met his gaze. In those crimson eyes, the Captain saw not recklessness, but a profound, unshakable certainty.
"What do you intend to do in the situation you're in right now?" Saturu asked, his voice dangerously quiet. "If you force yourself, driven by pride and fear, you will not save anyone. You will put yourself and the people depending on you in greater harm. The most responsible action a wounded soldier can take is to heal." He applied gentle pressure, forcing the man back onto the mat. "As I said, I will take care of this."
The Captain's defiance crumbled, extinguished by the sheer weight of Saturu's presence. He slumped back as his own teammates, who had been watching in stunned silence, moved in to continue bandaging his wounds.
"Oh. Take this. It will allow you to enter." Kaldrin gave him his passcard.
'This was the one thing I needed,' Saturu thought.
"Who will accompany him?" asked the teammate bandaging Kaldrin.
"I will." The lady Saturu had saved earlier spoke up.
"Rize, you may have recovered, but re-exposure to the mist could cause more damage."
"I will take that risk."
'Now I have to babysit this risky woman,' Saturu thought.
He could only watch as Saturu and Rize turned and walked calmly out of the chaotic tent. In the next moment, the strange young man had vanished.
"He called you a child..." one of the men bandaging him muttered, a note of awe in his voice.
"Shut up!" the Captain snapped, but there was no heat in it. His mind was reeling.
A younger, more impulsive senior comrade, Jin, stepped forward, his face set. "Are we just going to let him leave? He's going to get himself killed by that thing! We have to—"
"He might look like a child," the Captain said, closing his eyes, "but he acts like an adult."