Nina ran through the forest, her hand tightly gripped by Aya, who led her down the mountain path.
Desperate not to be a burden, she forced her legs to move. Days of inadequate food and rest left her gasping for breath, her vision spinning in circles. Her legs felt unbearably heavy, every step a monumental effort.
Still, she pushed herself to keep up with Aya, determined not to slow her down as they descended the treacherous slope. The mountain terrain was anything but forgiving: tree roots jutted out unpredictably, loose stones and slippery moss littered the path, and the unfamiliar, soft soil made running even harder.
It was the kind of terrain that made it easy to stumble, to fall. Her body begged her to sit down, to give up.
"A little more, Nina-chan! Just a little further!" Aya encouraged.
"Hah... hah..." Nina could only gasp for air.
The sound of the distant battle, coupled with Aya's words, felt overwhelming, as if the world itself was bearing down on her. She wanted to cry—wanted to collapse—but instead bit her lip and pressed on.
Finally, they reached the foot of the mountain, and asphalt appeared before them—a familiar, man-made road. Relief washed over Nina at the sight of something ordinary. Aya exhaled a long breath, finally allowing herself to relax.
Without Aya, Nina wouldn't have made it. She knew that. Still gasping for air, she managed to force out her gratitude.
"...Thank you, Aya."
"It's nothing. Don't worry about it," Aya replied, smiling as if the trek had been no trouble at all.
She smiled again, this time with an almost playful confidence.
"I just did what Itsuki-kun would've done."
The sincerity in Aya's voice left Nina momentarily stunned. Then Aya chuckled, her eyes lighting up.
"Though, if it were Itsuki-kun, he'd probably have already exorcised that monster by now."
Overwhelmed by Aya's unshakable optimism, Nina could only reply with a weak, "...You're probably right."
As the two of them caught their breath, Aya noticed Nina's trembling legs and pale face.
"Nina-chan, you look awful. Are you okay?"
"...I'm fine," Nina lied.
It was the only answer she could give.
She couldn't let Aya worry any more than she already had. She couldn't let herself seem useless.
But the truth was, standing was all she could manage. She wanted nothing more than to collapse, close her eyes, cover her ears, and block out the world.
She wasn't okay—not in the slightest.
The very thought of monsters terrified her. She was afraid, overwhelmingly so.
Monsters always defied expectations. They turned amusement parks into nightmares, effortlessly incapacitated her schoolmates, and brought death to those she cared about with chilling ease.
Even now, she could recall it all with perfect clarity: the jet coaster tracks draped with human entrails like grotesque garlands, intestines hanging like jungle vines for the amusement of clockwork toys. Children her age, impaled on merry-go-round poles by their own parents. A detached Ferris wheel, swung like a club by giants to crush fleeing families one by one.
And her father, slaughtered before her eyes while trying to protect her.
The memories were too surreal to feel real—so nightmarish they were almost comical. And yet, they filled her with a terror so profound that she couldn't help but wonder... If someone else she loved died before her eyes, would she laugh again?
If her mother, Irena... or Aya, Renji, Souichirou, or even Itsuki—people who had shown her kindness—died, would she smile despite her grief? She was terrified of the possibility.
The thought made her stomach churn.
While Nina wrestled with her fears, Aya's focus shifted. She gazed back up the mountain slope they had descended, her hands clenching into tight fists.
"Sorry, Nina-chan. I have to go," Aya said suddenly.
"Go? Go where?" Nina asked, startled.
"To that monster. I won't be fighting it myself, but Princess of Frost will."
Nina didn't need an explanation. The Princess of Frost was a named Sixth-Rank being.
For an ordinary monster, she'd make quick work of it. If the enemy was giving even Souichirou trouble, she would undoubtedly be a crucial ally.
Nina understood all that. What she didn't understand was Aya's resolve.
In response to her rising anger, a faint power stirred within her—a wisp of purple energy, so delicate it seemed to merge with the Sanctuary's lingering magic.
It was unconscious—a reaction born from years of honing fairy magic, driven by her unyielding desire to become an exorcist. The purple mist trembled, then spoke.
"You're scared, aren't you, Nina?"
"...Yes, I'm scared."
She had always been afraid.
"Why are you scared?"
"...Because I might die."
"Who might die?"
...Who might die?
It was such a strange question that Nina found herself thinking it over.
"Itsuki... everyone... because of me..."
Her voice cracked. Her legs shook.
Just imagining it was enough to make her want to cry.
"Hold on a second, Nina. You think people die because of you?"
"...?"
"Who kills people? Who's killing you? Who's at fault? Who's really at fault? Is it really your fault?"
The mist wavered, its form shifting slightly.
At a loss for words, Nina could only watch.
"Who kills people? Who's the real enemy? It's not you. You know this. You've always known this."
"...I..."
She had always known.
"The thing you're afraid of..." Nina whispered. "...is not being able to exorcise the monsters."
"Exactly."
The fairy affirmed her fears.
There was no point in hiding. No reason to deny the truth.
"I'm scared because I lack the power to exorcise them."
"Exactly."
"I'm scared because I can't destroy the monsters."
"Perfect!"
Nina's clenched hands opened.
And in that moment, the world seemed to expand. The Sanctuary's dense magic surged through her body, igniting her senses and sharpening her focus.
For the first time, she felt as though she could wield any magic.
"You know what you need to do," the fairy said, its voice gentle.
"...Yes," Nina replied, her resolve clear.
Guided by the fairy, Nina refined her magic. She molded it through Alchemy and focused it with Recollection, shaping it into a tangible form.
"...I will destroy the monsters."
Her determination echoed in the air as a dragon's roar shook the forest.