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“Left here, then right at the next.”
“Got it!”

Carried on Filia’s back as she sprinted through the underground passage, I guided her along the path we had taken so far.

We were moving fast, but far from composed—the terror was on a whole different level, and the exhaustion was just as severe. Even though all I was doing was being carried, I was so drained I wasn’t sure I could stand on my own anymore.

“Alice, how is it!?”
“…It’s following us.”

My brain was close to its limit.

With my ears straining to their utmost, I caught the faint sound of that massive body moving quietly in the distance.

Its movement was so quiet that if I lost focus even for a moment, I would lose track of it. But without a doubt, it was still there—keeping a steady distance, pursuing us.

Had it already finished with its first prey, or had it simply chosen to prioritize us? Either way, it was clear it had no intention of letting us go.

“W-what do we do now, nya?”
“Once we get outside… we, um, uh, run?”
“…Probably won’t work. It won’t let us go.”

I didn’t know how, but whatever it was had us located. Otherwise it couldn’t have tracked us with such precision.

From behind came a sound like the death cries of rats—maybe it was hunting along the way; that awful noise had been cropping up now and then.

Little by little, it was closing the distance.

“…Head for the Adventurers’ Guild, or the knight garrison.”

Even a country town this size should have proper walls and at least an adventurers’ guild or a small knight detachment.

“But will they believe us, nya!?”
“What other choice do we have?!?”

There’s no telling if the local adventurers or knights could beat that thing. The chance they’d take us seriously was slim. Still, there wasn’t any other plausible option.

Thinking we could deal with that thing on our own was far more unrealistic.

Either way, if we could just escape to the surface, we’d have more options. Luckily, the plaza we first saw was already in sight—just a little farther to the surface.

I pushed aside the conversation we were having while running, and focused once more on the sounds behind us.

“Huh?”

A rushing sound, like wind, swept right above us.

Instinctively, I looked up. Using two of its six arms to cling to the ceiling, the weasel’s grotesque grin was glaring down at us.

In its free hands dangled a limp rat, and one of the boys who had tangled with me earlier.

“Elder wolf! What’s—”
“Don’t think, just run with everything you’ve got!!”

Before anyone’s eyes or attention could turn fully upward, I screamed with every bit of voice I had. My throat cracked with a sharp pain, forcing out a cough I couldn’t hold back.

Thankfully, no one wasted time with a “Why? How come?” Somehow they must have sensed it, because they all broke into a sprint, rushing into the plaza with the pedestal carved with letters.

I desperately clung to Filia so she wouldn’t shake me off.

Right after we ran through, I heard a sound like a heavy leather sack full of liquid being slammed against the ground. I had neither the courage nor the presence of mind to check what it was.

“What do we do, nya!? Should we hide in the water nya!?”
“Ugh… cough… that thing’s… cough… detection ability… won’t be fooled… so easily…”
“But hiding is… about all we can…”

We entered the plaza, and our pace slowed just a little. Filia glanced nervously around, then suddenly turned to look behind us.

My warning didn’t make it in time.

“—KYAAAAHHH!?”

Prompted by her, Noche and Sufi also looked back, short screams slipping from their throats.

From the darkness, an upside-down weasel’s face dangled from the ceiling of the passage. Its mouth, torn ear to ear, was brimming with delight. And hanging just below it was what used to be a human boy, swung around like a ragged doll.

“…Hhh—”
“Filia… cough… calm down, breathe slowly through your nose.”

Filia had stopped breathing, as if frozen by the grotesque puppet show. I hastily rubbed her back—this was the worst time to be unable to move.

The weasel, delighted by her fear, grinned even wider, and the red puppet flailed in a nonsensical dance.

But it raised a question. With that kind of combat ability, and its detection powers, and the way it moved so haphazardly—why had we been able to escape? Why had it let us go once?

Seeing that joyful face, seeing how it made no move to attack us even though we were stopped, frozen in fear at this distance, I realized.

It was playing with us. It wanted to enjoy the sight of “innocent little girls” trembling in terror, not kill us right away.

A straight-up monster from B-horror movies—the worst kind of monsters.

“W-what do we do, nya…”
“That thing’s… scaring us… cough… playing…us.”
“The worst, nya.”

How do we draw its attention? How do we get away? I spun my thoughts at full speed, while beside me Filia’s breathing gradually steadied.

When fear takes hold, just having someone rub your back can give you a little courage. The words of a mercenary who had once fought something like that weasel in my past life are proving useful now.

But…

Honestly, we’re cornered.

“…Noche, Filia.”
“Sufi?”

Sufi, who had been silent this whole time, takes a step toward the weasel with a serious look.

A bad feeling runs through me. For a moment, the side of her face overlaps with someone from my memories.

“Wh-what is it, nya?”
“Can I entrust… my little sister to you? She’s weak and needs looking after… but she’s clever and kind.”
“Sufi? What are you saying?”
“If-if it’s… the two of you… I believe you’ll protect… her.”

Her legs and voice tremble with fear, yet her expression is so clear it can be seen even in the dark.

Those are the eyes of someone who knew that they would lose their life, that there was nothing but a tragic death ahead, and yet still summoned courage to step forward to protect others.

“You…”
“I-I’ll… I’ll do my best, so… three of you, run… and then… take care of Alice… my little sister…”
“Sufi, no.”

I should recognize it. I’ve seen that face countless times in my past life.

The mercenary guards who died protecting me from ambushes, from raging Unknowns.

Summoning up the last scraps of courage, saying things like, *‘At least let me go out in style at the end of this s̲h̲i̲t̲t̲y life’*… and dying while putting on a brave face.

The face of someone who has resolved themselves—who has already made their decision.