The forest howled with something more than wind.
Branches shook. Snow trembled. Shadows shifted between the trees like hungry things.
Taro stood in the middle of it — blade drawn, boots crunching over frost and blood.
His breath steamed in the cold. Every exhale felt heavier than the last.
The Wendigo's silhouette towered before him, hunched and massive. Its ribcage pulsed with light — faint, like the glow of embers trapped in tar. From its back sprouted long, jagged spines, each twitching with instinctive fury. The smell was rot and iron.
Above them, suspended by strands of hardened sinew, hung the girl. Her coat was torn, her legs bruised black, her face pale and trembling. She was barely conscious, her mouth moving soundlessly as she looked down at him.
"H-help…"
"I'm here!" Taro shouted, voice breaking through the icy silence.
The Wendigo turned at the sound, its head rotating far too slowly, bones creaking. Its face was half-human — or had once been. Frost clung to its lips. It grinned, revealing teeth like shards of broken glass.
Then it moved.
The ground exploded beneath it as it lunged. Taro rolled aside, snow erupting around him. The creature slammed into the earth where he'd been standing, claws carving trenches through the frozen soil.
He didn't hesitate — he swung his blade in a wide arc, cutting across its side. Flesh split. A burst of black blood hissed against the cold, steaming. The Wendigo barely flinched. It straightened, breathing raggedly, like a bull savoring the chase.
"Come on then," Taro muttered. "Let's dance."
The monster charged again.
He ducked low, barely avoiding the claws that would've taken his head clean off. His sword flashed — once, twice — sparks scattering from the impact as he parried its swipes. He'd fought beasts before, but none this strong. The sheer weight behind each blow rattled his bones.
It swiped again — and he jumped, landing on a fallen branch that jutted from a tree trunk. He leapt from there, coming down with a downward slash across its shoulder. The blade bit deep.
The Wendigo screamed. It spun, catching him midair and flinging him like a ragdoll through the trees.
He hit the ground hard — his ribs flared white with pain. He coughed blood, rolling just as the creature's claws slammed into the dirt beside him.
Too close.
He scrambled backward, gripping his sword, gasping for breath.
The Wendigo loomed again, its face twisting in mockery. The air grew colder — frost creeping along the bark. The creature's presence bent the temperature around it.
It crouched, preparing to strike again.
Taro steadied his breath. Fear pressed against the edge of his mind, whispering that he couldn't win this. That he should run. That no one would blame him.
But his eyes lifted to the girl.
She was still alive. Barely. Her eyes locked on him again, wide with a kind of desperate faith he didn't deserve.
That was enough.
He gripped his sword tighter. Knights don't run.
The Wendigo lunged. This time, Taro sidestepped and slashed at its knee. The blade bit shallow, but it made the monster stumble. He darted back, scanning — calculating.
A massive pine beside them leaned awkwardly, its trunk half-split by age and ice. A plan took shape in his mind — quick, reckless, but it was all he had.
He needed that thing under it.
The Wendigo roared, swinging again. Taro deflected and retreated, slashing whenever it closed in, always steering it closer to the weakened tree. He breathed through the pain, through the cold, through the doubt. Every step was measured, every movement drawing the creature toward the trap.
"That's it," he whispered. "Come on… a little closer…"
The Wendigo lunged one final time, mouth opening wide — rows of teeth slick with blood. Taro ducked beneath its arm, slicing through the same knee again. This time, the blade bit deeper — bone cracked. The creature stumbled forward, crashing shoulder-first into the leaning tree.
The trunk groaned, split — then fell.
Taro dove backward as the massive pine came crashing down.
The Wendigo screeched as it was pinned, half-crushed beneath the weight. Branches splintered. Snow burst into the air like smoke. The ground shuddered.
Silence fell — except for the faint, wheezing growl beneath the fallen tree.
Taro lay still for a moment, panting, his chest heaving. Then he forced himself up, grimacing as pain lanced through his ribs. He limped toward the trapped creature. Its claws thrashed weakly, scraping the ground.
He raised his sword and brought it down through its chest — once, twice — until it stopped moving. Black blood pooled beneath the snow, freezing almost instantly.
He staggered back, watching the steam rise from the corpse.
That was all.
The girl hung above, still suspended by that vile sinew. Her breathing was shallow but steady.
"Hang on, I've got you."
He leapt, cutting the strands carefully. She fell forward into his arms, light as air. Her skin was ice-cold, her uniform soaked in blood that wasn't all hers.
"You're okay now," he whispered, voice softer. "I've got you."
Her head lolled weakly against his shoulder. "T… thank you…"
He adjusted her onto his back, securing her arms around his neck. She was barely conscious — her voice a trembling whisper.
"Where… are the others?"
"We're still looking," he said quietly. "Just hang in there."
He took one last look at the crushed Wendigo. Even pinned, even dead, it radiated something wrong — a hunger that lingered in the air. Its blood steamed like tar.
He sheathed his sword, tightened his grip on the girl, and started walking.
Snow crunched beneath his boots. His breath fogged the air. The forest stretched endlessly, dark and suffocating. Every sound made him tense — every creak of ice, every rustle of branches.
He moved carefully but quickly, weaving through the skeletal trees. His vision swam at the edges, exhaustion clawing at him. But he couldn't stop. Not yet.
Then, in the distance — a thunderous boom.
A blast of light briefly illuminated the forest canopy, followed by a deep rumble rolling through the air.
Taro froze mid-step. His heart dropped. He recognized that explosion — the sound of detonation tags.
"Rin…"
The noise came from far east — where Rin was supposed to be clearing minor Wendigos.
Smoke began to rise faintly in the distance, curling above the trees.
He adjusted his hold on the girl, her faint breathing against his shoulder.
"Hang on, just a bit longer," he murmured. "We're heading that way."
He started running — slow at first, then faster despite the ache in his side. His boots kicked up snow. His breath came sharp and ragged. But his eyes were fixed ahead, toward that distant rising smoke.
Behind him, the wind shifted — carrying a faint, broken sound.
The Wendigo under the fallen tree… still moved. Barely. Its head turned, one milky eye following the trail Taro left behind.
It smiled.
Then it went still again, buried beneath ice and silence.
Taro didn't look back. He ran — a wounded boy carrying another through a cursed forest, chasing the echo of an explosion and the faint hope that someone else had survived.