The tension hung thick in the air. On the other side of the river, a growing crowd of peasants had gathered, their wary eyes fixed on the drenched and battered group. Suspicion lingered in their expressions, their hushed murmurs only adding to the unease.

  “Get him up,” Hadvar commanded. “We need to make a break for the tunnel.”

  Stick, still shivering from the freezing water, barely kept his teeth from chattering as he narrowed his eyes at him. “What are you doing here?”

  Hadvar barely spared him a glance, his voice low. “Too many guards.”

  Nakamura tried to interject. “Hadvar, I don’t understand—”

  Hadvar cut him off, tossing him a tattered but familiar cape. “This was your mother’s. Don’t lose it again.”

  Nakamura caught it, momentarily speechless, fingers tightening around the fabric. Hadvar, meanwhile, stole a quick glance at the bridge in the distance before draping himself in Carnifex red. The armor materialized around him in an instant, deep crimson making him seem even more imposing.

  “We have to move,” he said. “If you want the big bot with us, do something. Now.”

  Stick barely heard him. He was fixated on PP’s unmoving form. Shadis rushed over, his feet kicking up frozen sand as he dropped to his knees. Together, they turned the massive man onto his back. His body was limp.

  “Oh no,” Stick muttered, dread gripping his chest.

  “Don’t worry, Mr. Arslan.” Shadis’ voice was calm but firm. “We’ve had the occasional man overboard back in the day.”

  Without hesitation, Shadis placed his hands on PP’s broad chest and began compressions. His arms, thin and wiry, looked almost comically small against the sheer mass of PP, but each press was strong and deliberate. Stick checked PP’s status. [Life Points]: 0.

  But he wasn’t dead. He couldn’t be. Stick could never forgive himself.

  “Come on, big guy.” Shadis continued, gritting his teeth against the strain.

  “We don’t have time for this,” Hadvar snapped. “Nakamura, let’s go.”

  Stick whipped his head up. “Where do you think you’re going? You have to help us!”

  Hadvar turned sharply. “I did my part. We’re even. You’re on your own now. Nakamura!”

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  “I-I—” Nakamura stammered, frozen by the overwhelming situation.

  His eyes flicked between Hadvar and the steady rhythm of Shadis’ desperate efforts. Stick felt the heat rising to his face despite the icy wind. He wanted to hit Hadvar—punch through that indifferent mask.

  “Curses!” Shadis hissed, sweat mixing with the river water dripping from his hair.

  “Nakamura!” Hadvar barked. “This is an order!”

  “You leave him the fuck alone!” Stick surged to his feet. “He’s not Carnifex anymore. Neither are you. Whatever authority you had doesn’t exist!”

  Before Hadvar could respond, a sudden, wet cough cut through the tension, followed by a violent sputtering of water.

  PP was breathing.

  “PP!” Stick gasped, dropping down to help. “You’re alive!”

  PP groaned weakly, rubbing his temples. “Yes… I think so.”

  Shadis let out a shaky laugh, clearly exhausted.

  “I’m afraid time is against us today,” he said, offering his hand.

  PP took it, pushing himself upright with effort. “I understand. Thank you.”

  “Oh, please,” Shadis said with a tired grin. “Just returning the favor.”

  The relief was short-lived. Stick turned, meeting the cold, faceless visor of Hadvar. But this time, Hadvar said nothing. He simply pointed toward the road.

  “That way.”

  No more words were exchanged. They set off at a brisk pace, shivering in their soaked clothes as the frozen wind gnawed at them. The only sounds were their own ragged breaths, the crunch of snow, and the rhythmic clinking of Hadvar’s armor ahead. Then, abruptly, Hadvar stopped. The group caught up, only to see why—there was a fork in the road.

  Stick, breathless, frowned. “I thought you knew the way.”

  Hadvar shot him a sharp look. “That’s not it, you idiot.”

  Stick rolled his eyes. “Then what is it?”

  “We have to go left,” Hadvar said. “But I have an idea.”

  Shadis, hands on his knees, looked up. “So? What is it?”

  Hadvar smirked. “Follow me.”

  He veered right instead. The group hesitated.

  “He’s an intelligent man,” Nakamura said, though the uncertainty in his voice was obvious.

  Stick exhaled, still watching Hadvar warily. “Yeah. I know.”

  Idiot yourself.

  They followed. After a few hundred meters, Hadvar suddenly veered left, diving into a thicket of bushes.

  Stick stopped at the edge of the road. “Hadvar! What’s going on?”

  Hadvar reappeared behind the leaves and gestured. “Come on!”

  One by one, they hurried into the cover of the undergrowth. Once everyone was concealed, Hadvar turned to Nakamura.

  “Use a Wind Slash. Over there.” He pointed toward the point where they’d veered off the road.

  Nakamura blinked. Then, understanding dawned. “Oh.”

  He summoned his spear in a flash and with a swift motion, cut through the air. A powerful gust swept across the road, snapping tree branches on the opposite side. Stick finally understood when Hadvar crouched down and inspected the ground in front of the undergrowth.

  “Good,” Hadvar murmured, satisfied.

  Their tracks were gone. But the ones leading up to this point remained, making it seem like they had continued forward.

  “This should buy us some time,” Stick said.

  “We cut through the treeline and only emerge when we need to. The tunnel isn’t far. Don’t leave footprints where they can be spotted,” Hadvar commanded. “Understood?”

  Everyone nodded. Hadvar turned towards the undergrowth. As he once again led the way, Stick caught his own distorted reflection in the polished Carnifex red. Nakamura was right. Hadvar was intelligent. Maybe a bit too much.

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