Lara's weight in Alaric's arms felt like ice and lightning combined. She was gasping, her fingers digging into his forearms with a strength that bruised his skin. As the blue mist of her spiritual energy continued to evaporate, she looked up at him, her eyes burning with a humiliated fury.
"Get... your hands... off me!" she hissed.
With a violent shove, she pushed herself out of his reach. She stood on trembling legs, her nine tails twitching behind her before they flickered and vanished back into the void of her true form. She didn't look back at the stunned boy. She turned toward the hospital door, intending to vanish into the shadows, but as she reached for her power, her body felt like a dry well.
She lunged toward the door to teleport—and slammed hard against the heavy wood. The sound of her shoulder hitting the door echoed like a gunshot in the quiet ward.
"Dammit!" she roared, her voice cracking with a very human frustration. She threw the door open manually and stormed out of the hospital, her heels clicking a lethal rhythm against the linoleum.
The mountain air was thin and biting as Lara reached the ancient temple at the summit of Myohyagsan. She wasn't the graceful fox dealer anymore; she was a storm. In her hand, she gripped a heavy iron rod, jagged and sharp like a mason's chisel, which she had snatched from a construction site on her way.
She kicked the temple doors open. "Come out! We need to talk!"
Silence greeted her, save for the flickering of a hundred candles.
"Fine!" Lara screamed. She swung the iron rod, smashing a porcelain offering jar into a thousand pieces. **CRACK.** She moved to the altar, sweeping her weapon across the sacred objects, senting brass and jade flying. "Come out this instant! Since you refuse to show yourself, I'll let you watch how these fine woods burn to ashes!"
She snatched a heavy temple candle and hurled it toward the silken tapestries. But the candle didn't hit. It stopped mid-air, hovering in a halo of golden light.
"You are wicked and irrelevant," a voice boomed from the shadows. Lord Pagun stepped into the light, his expression as cold as a dead star.
Lara didn't flinch. She pointed the iron rod at him. "I lost a huge chunk of my energy today! I demand to know why! What did you do to my scale?"
Pagun looked at the wreckage of the altar, then back at her. "Tell me, little beast... are you the one who smashed these deities, or was it the rod?"
"Don't play word games with me!" Lara stepped closer, her teeth bared.
Pagun's gaze finally sharpened, losing its detached calm. "You lost your energy because the balance was violated. A human has died, Lara. A life that was supposed to continue ended because of your reckless decision to interfere with Ethan's greed."
Lara stood frozen, the iron rod slipping slightly in her grip. "Died? Who... who died?"
"The threads are tangled," Pagun said, turning his back on her. "And now, you are tied to the one who remains."
Later that night, the city felt hollow. Alaric stood at a lonely bus stop, his shadow stretching long under the flickering streetlamp. He checked his watch for the tenth time. The last bus had already passed.
"Five hours," he muttered, running a hand through his hair. "It'll take five hours to trek back home."
"Then you'd better start walking," a voice said beside him.
Alaric jumped, nearly tripping over his own feet. Lara was standing there, looking perfectly composed despite the chaos of the afternoon.
"You!" Alaric exhaled, his mind racing back to the hospital, the blue light, and the tails. "What are you doing here? And what... what happened back there?"
Lara ignored his questions, looking down the empty road. "If I get you home, will you listen to me? Where do you live?"
Alaric looked at her skeptically. "How are you going to get me home? You don't have a car, and the taxis aren't running this late."
Lara stepped toward him, a faint, arrogant smirk returning to her lips. "I will use earth-folding. It's similar to teleporting, but much more elegant. Hang on tight."
Before Alaric could protest, she grabbed his hand. Her grip was like iron. Suddenly, the world didn't just move—it folded. The streetlights stretched into long ribbons of light, and the ground felt as though it were sliding beneath them like a rug being pulled. Alaric felt a momentary pressure in his chest, and then, the world snapped back into focus.
He stumbled, gasping for air. He looked up and gasped again. He was standing directly in front of his apartment building.
"How... how did you do that?" he stammered, looking back at the dark street. "We were miles away!"
"I can travel to Europe with this if I have the energy," Lara bragged, smoothing her hair. "I've spent centuries traveling to a dozen countries in a single day. A few miles across the city is nothing."
But then, her expression shifted. The arrogance faded, replaced by a deadly seriousness. She stepped closer, her golden eyes locking onto his.
"Alaric," she said, her voice dropping to a whisper that commanded his entire soul. "You need to help me."