The air atop Jamana Mountain didn't just feel cold; it felt heavy, like the atmosphere was trying to grind Aile Tsukia into the dirt.
Tsukia crouched in the brush, her dark hair spilling over the shoulders of a tattered black cloak. Her target—a mountain buck—was thirty paces out, grazing peacefully. She reached for the hilt of the black sword at her waist, but the moment her fingers brushed the steel, a familiar, sickening sting pricked her skin.
Not now, she hissed at herself.
Under the sleeve of her white shirt, obsidian veins began to pulse. It was a volatile, hungry power—a "gift" that felt more like a parasite. She lunged, a blur of monochrome shadow against the green woods. Her blade swung in a silent arc, but mid-motion, a sharp spike of pain exploded in her chest.
Her foot caught a root. She went down hard, her shoulder slamming into a jagged rock with enough force to shatter bone.
CRACK.
Tsukia gasped, clutching her arm. But she wasn't looking for a wound. She looked down to see the solid stone beneath her had been pulverized into dust. Her skin was fine—no blood, no bruise, not even a scratch.
"Even the mountain is too weak to break me," she whispered, her voice raspy from years of disuse.
At seventeen, Tsukia was a walking anomaly. Since she was ten, she'd been branded a "bad luck charm," a freak who couldn't fit in and, infuriatingly, couldn't die. She'd tried. She'd thrown herself off cliffs only for the wind to catch her like a leaf; she'd turned blades on herself only for the steel to shatter against her skin. She was protected by a curse she didn't understand, fueled by a power she couldn't control.
She was trapped—unless someone else was strong enough to finish the job.
She was already retreating back into the shadows when a sound stopped her heart.
Whistling.
A cheerful, rhythmic tune that had no business being in these godforsaken woods. Tsukia's skin crawled. Human. In her experience, humans were the only predators that enjoyed the hunt.
She masked her aura, melting behind the trunk of an ancient cedar. A man wandered into the clearing, looking absurdly out of place in a crisp white shirt, cargo pants, and a bucket hat. He hummed to himself, kicking at loose stones like he was on a Sunday stroll.
"Human," Tsukia spat under her breath. Her throat felt tight, constricted by a mix of old resentment and sudden social anxiety. Did they find me? Is he a mercenary?
She didn't wait to find out. She gripped her sword and launched a strike from his blind spot.
The man didn't even look back. He just shifted his weight, moving like a falling leaf caught in a breeze. The black blade hissed through empty air. Tsukia's eyes widened. She swung again, a flurry of strikes, but he danced out of reach with a frustrating, weightless grace.
"Who the hell are you?" she demanded, skidding to a halt and leveling her blade at his throat.
The man stopped, tilting his head. He took in her tattered cloak and the raw intensity in her eyes. "How about you? What's a girl like you doing on a peak as nasty as Jamana?"
"I asked first," she snapped, her hand trembling.
"Fair point," he chuckled, crossing his arms. "Some people were chasing me. I figured the mountain was a good place to lose them. Don't worry, Miss—I've got no interest in fighting a beautiful woman. I'm a lover, not a warrior."
Tsukia's lip curled. Flattery was just another lie. She turned to leave, her cloak billowing behind her.
"Wait! You didn't even answer me, you idiot!" the man shouted.
Idiot.
The word hit her like a physical blow. The volatile energy in her blood surged. All the bottled-up rage of seven years of isolation boiled over. How dare he? How dare this stranger just show up and insult her?
She spun around. The air in the clearing turned frigid. Her left eye bled into a deep, abyssal black, and the dark veins on her wrist erupted, glowing with a faint, necro-violet light. She leveled her palm at him, a sphere of screaming telekinetic energy forming in her hand.
The man's laughter died instantly. He went pale, staring at the thick drop of blood that began to trickle from Tsukia's nose.
"Hey! Easy! You're hurting yourself—"
"Quiet!" Tsukia screamed.
With a flick of her wrist, she unleashed the wave. The force hit the man like a semi-truck, launching him backward. He slammed into a tree with a bone-rattling thud and slumped to the dirt.
Tsukia doubled over, gasping as she wiped the blood from her lip. The power always took its pound of flesh.
The man groaned, pulling off his bucket hat as he sat up. He looked at her, his expression no longer playful. It was analytical. "I've seen a lot of magic... but that? That felt old. Ancient."
"I don't even know what it is," Tsukia admitted, her voice trembling. "I just woke up one day with no memory, and this... this disaster inside me."
"So you really do live here," he murmured. "All alone."
"I don't trust humans," she said, her eyes flashing. "Leave the mountain. Forget you saw me."
"I see. You hold a grudge," he smirked, standing up and brushing the dirt from his shirt. "I wonder what made you hate us so much."
Tsukia ignored him and started walking, but his voice followed her, warm and persistent. "I won't tell anyone. You have my word. I'm not like the others."
She looked back over her shoulder. For a split second, she saw his smile. It wasn't the mocking grin of a villager or the sneer of a hunter. It was... actually kind of cute. She felt a dangerous spark of curiosity.
"Why should I believe you?"
"I won't use words," he said cheerfully. "I'll let my actions prove it. But tell me—what's the goal? Why stay up here?"
Tsukia hesitated. "I just... I want to be strong. Strong enough that I'm not afraid anymore."
"I can help with that!"
"I told you, I don't trust—"
"You're so selfish!" he pouted, making a grumpy face that made her blink in pure confusion.
"I don't care. Bye."
She turned to leave, but he began to follow her like a stray dog, pestering her with questions.
"Shut up already," she groaned.
"No! Hehe."
Suddenly, the forest went dead silent. The birds fled.
THUD. THUD. THUD.
The rhythmic sound of heavy boots echoed through the trees. Nine men in tactical gear emerged from the shadows, weapons glinting.
Tsukia's heart sank. She gripped her sword, glaring at the man in the white shirt. "You... you brought them here."
But the man didn't look at her. He sighed, scratching his head as the soldiers leveled their rifles at him.
"There he is!" one of them shouted. "Don't let him slip away again!"
Tsukia blinked. They weren't there for the "abominable charm." They were there for the idiot in the bucket hat.
"Man, they are persistent," the man sighed, his playful aura vanishing as he stepped in front of Tsukia. "Sorry about the noise, Miss. It seems my past caught up to me."
He looked back at her and winked. "Want to see how a 'human' fights?"
And just like that, the disaster truly began.