The forest began to thin, trees giving way to a mist-shrouded clearing. The air felt heavier here — damp, charged, like the world was holding its breath.
Al-Haitham's legs started trembling before anyone else noticed anything wrong.
Tomoe glanced at him from the corner of her eye, a faint smirk tugging at her lips.
"There it is again," she murmured.
They had all learned one thing on the road: when Al-Haitham shook, trouble wasn't far behind.
"Relax," Tomoe said more loudly, adjusting the straps of her satchel. "Probably a wolf. Maybe a boar. We've handled worse."
But the shadows ahead did not move like any wolf.
A low, rolling growl slithered out of the fog, vibrating through the ground. Then something massive parted the mist — a serpentine figure, armored in scales that shimmered silver-gray, like moonlight on ice.
A lesser dragon.
Its golden eyes burned with intelligence, each slow blink measuring the worth of the prey before it. Lightning flickered faintly between its nostrils as if the air itself were feeding it.
Al-Haitham froze. Completely.
The dragon moved first — a blur of muscle and scale — lunging straight for him.
Tomoe didn't think. She intercepted the strike, slamming her shoulder into the creature's head to deflect it. The impact sent her flying back like a rag doll, but before she hit the ground, Lena's plants erupted from the soil, weaving into a giant flower that caught her. The petals folded, absorbing most of the force.
Nycto was already moving, twin katanas flashing like silver arcs. He aimed for the neck, but the dragon twisted its long body away with uncanny speed, taking to the air in a spiraling leap before crashing back down, claws tearing the soil.
They regrouped quickly. Tomoe took the front, stance low and ready. Lena spread her roots through the earth, tangling the ground to limit the dragon's mobility. Nycto darted left, striking at a hind leg, landing a shallow cut that barely nicked the flesh beneath the scales.
The dragon didn't roar in pain. It smiled.
It was playing with them.
It lunged again, jaws snapping toward Tomoe, but she parried with the flat of her fist, twisting away. The tail swept across the clearing — Nycto barely ducked in time.
Al-Haitham stood on the edge, bow in hand, but the string stayed slack. His breathing was fast, shallow, his thoughts screaming louder than the battle. If he missed… if his arrow struck one of them…
Lena gritted her teeth, sweat dripping down her face as she fed more spirit energy into her plants. Vines lashed at the dragon's legs, forcing it to shift its stance, but she could feel her reserves dwindling. Nycto's movements slowed fractionally — each swing costing more than the last.
Tomoe's arms shook under the weight of the creature's repeated blows.
They needed a weakness.
"Eyes," Nycto panted, backing away from another swipe.
The dragon wasn't about to give them that chance. It began circling, forcing them to rotate with it, waiting for the smallest mistake. Its chest began to swell — the air hissed with static.
Lightning.
Lena's vines snapped in half from a sudden whip of its tail. Tomoe was driven to her knees by a glancing blow. Nycto staggered from a near miss, dirt spraying up where claws gouged the ground.
The smell of ozone filled the air.
And then —
Thwip.
An arrow cut the tension and the air in one breath, embedding itself deep into the dragon's right eye. The creature shrieked, staggering back in fury and pain, clawing at its own face.
Tomoe, seizing the moment, surged forward with a roar. She drove her fist into the arrow's shaft, the force pushing it through the socket and into the brain.
The dragon's entire body convulsed, its wings flaring wide before folding in on themselves. Lightning fizzled harmlessly in its throat.
It collapsed with a final, heavy thud, shaking the clearing. The mist swallowed the sound.
Silence returned — except for the ragged breaths of the survivors.