Hiatt (04) 033: Tremors in the Fog
At the foot of Hiatt Mountain, knights clad in armor had gathered.
"Probably... still up there."
Craderus broke the silence. His words, accompanied by a deep sigh, only deepened the gloom.
The monster cleanup had begun early that morning. Even for the vast Hiatt Mountain, with nearly a hundred seasoned knights, a thorough search shouldn't have been impossible if they'd set their minds to it. But there was one reason they hadn't left the mountain even now, so late in the day.
Selasier Hiatt had yet to emerge from its depths.
"Damn it, I should have stayed closer."
Craderus muttered, swallowing his frustration. He'd noticed the eerie fog amid the heat of the monster hunt. It had risen like a wall dividing the Claire Empire's other cities from the north—no warning, no precursor. By the time they realized, it was too late. Even heading upward past the mid-slope brought them right back to where they'd started.
They'd rallied the knights and reorganized, but it was clear: the lady of Hiatt was trapped above the fog.
"...Don't worry too much. That boy's with her, isn't he?"
"That's what worries me more. He's no northerner—will he prioritize the lady in a crisis?"
"Fair point."
Makbel nodded quietly as he listened to Craderus. His gaze drifted somewhere beyond the fog. Truth be told, he hadn't orchestrated this. No one capable of such magic existed. Or was it even magic? Repelling everything without physical force, sending intruders back—it hardly fit the term.
The original plan had been simpler: strike during the monster hunt, exploit their distraction, overwhelm with superior numbers, and force a surrender. It should have unraveled easily. But the sudden fog had ruined everything. And in the chaos, that fool Prince Torun had nearly exposed himself.
Makbel fiddled with his short mustache and let out a low hum. The unnatural monster surge on Hiatt Mountain came to mind. Monsters using magic? Unheard of. But it was the only lead.
"Best to set up a temporary camp nearby, post watches, and wait for the lady to return."
The day was too far gone. Better to do nothing and let it end. Makbel murmured this, seamlessly issuing orders to the knights. The old man dreamed new dreams.
Her trembling was intense. The arm she clutched felt bloodless from the vise-like grip. And with it came tremors of grave severity.
"Lady."
"..."
Fleeing the monsters upward had been the right call, in the end. He didn't know if the fog was moving, but the haze lingering at mid-slope had swelled, creeping higher upstream. As if urging them onward.
The monsters multiplied accordingly—far beyond what Kalen could handle alone. He'd held out with sparks at first, but eventually resorted to a 2nd Hierarchy Nature Attribute spell: Frost Wind.
He recalled Blamia's warnings, but staying passive meant becoming monster fodder. Besides, the real issue wasn't exposure. Her condition was dire enough to spawn problems beyond beasts. Most crucially, hiding his talents from Selasier.
"Hoo... haa..."
She, who had always led ahead, now stood just behind him. Clinging desperately to his left arm, trembling pitifully. Her ragged breaths warmed his forearm with every gust. As the fog ballooned. As monsters poured from all sides.
It all pointed to one truth.
The "monster cleanup" was Makbel's trap.
That realization had struck something deep in Selasier. What if Kalen hadn't gotten angry that day? She couldn't answer. Even if she thought otherwise, she was a liar at heart. Unknowingly repeating those words, she'd come to lean on him.
The precarious needed something to hold. She'd vowed to become strong, but Selasier remained a fragile girl. Terrified of losing even this arm, she gripped harder. Her hold had discolored it darkly, blood starved, yet her body wouldn't obey.
She knew she should let go. Knew that if all she could do was tremble uselessly, she should free his arm to fight unhindered.
But she couldn't. And so her grasp only tightened.
"Sorry... hngh..."
Having seized his arm, she couldn't wipe the tears streaming to her chin. Pride kept her from lifting her head defiantly. Thus, she never saw Kalen's expression.
Selasier clung to his arm, trembling endlessly.
'Makbel's betrayal hit her hard.'
Kalen assessed calmly. The worsening shakes suggested the reality was sinking in. No wonder, after her reaction then.
But this hindered movement. Fighting one-armed was suboptimal.
-Grulk!
Kalen tore into a charging monster beside them, bathing in its blood. Drip. He carefully wiped the splatter from Selasier. Wine-red, closer to wine than blood.
"Lady."
"Hngh..."
"Lady."
"Hic..."
To escape, dispel the fog or slay every monster. But the tally so far made total extermination impossible. Only the fog remained—an origin point to find, at least.
Yet Kalen's stamina waned. Dragging an extra body in combat was burdensome.
He called to snap her out of it, but her delirium ignored him.
Puuk—
"Ah."
In that distracted instant, searing pain flared in his arm. A monster's grotesque claw had pierced his right arm clean through.
Kalen summoned Frost Wind, slaying it swiftly.
"Ha..."
No answers in this state. Rallying his dregs of strength, he eyed the summit. A desperate gamble—exhaustion meant death if nothing changed up top.
Staying put yielded the same. Better odds higher up.
Damn, he could never quit gambling.
Kalen smirked faintly, scooping Selasier into his arms.
"Calling me 'brother' and all... Stop crying so noisily, Lady."
Deep breath. Then he bolted.
Selasier, who had thrashed for release at first, now clung desperately to him.
"Found it."
Hiatt Mountain's summit loomed high, befitting its size. Scaling it was grueling; carrying someone, moreso. Kalen's bet seemed lost.
Just short of the peak, as strength ebbed, something caught his eye: a cave mouth.
Caves weren't rare in mountains, but suspicious here. Especially one spewing that bizarre fog.
No monsters nearby. Eerily quiet, a world apart.
Kalen let out a hollow chuckle at the absurdity. His clothes shredded, right arm and body riddled with punctures and gashes. He'd clawed through hell, only for this serene pocket.
The contrast infuriated him. If Makbel—or that pup Torun claiming his shadow—had set this for Selasier...
How could one be so cruel to their own blood?
Kalen glimpsed her spoken loneliness. Vassals flip for gain. Her "brother" a human scum trying to kill her. Father favors him. Even lifelong Makbel, a lie.
Silent, Kalen approached the cave, glancing at the girl in his arms. Was that loneliness self-inflicted calamity?
He was certain. Whatever sparked it, she'd flailed to survive. Her heart blackened utterly, no doubt.
Thus, now—betrayed by her deepest hope—she trembled in fear.
"Lady."
"..."
"I won't betray you."
At the entrance loomed a pattern, akin yet distinct from the one on Sinat's wrist. Kalen burned it into memory, continuing.
"..."
Selasier tightened her embrace, voice far from her usual grace and softness.
"Liar."
Distrust on her lips, dependence in her arms. That was Selasier's heart, Kalen thought. Makbel's abandonment had shattered all faith. Yet in that final moment, she'd forged one promise: him.
She wanted denial. Of her own words claiming betrayal.
If that soothed her, so be it.
Kalen whispered softly.
"I won't betray you."
Thus, the boy carrying the girl vanished into the cave's fog.
