The crisp mountain air stung Yasuji's lungs as he strained his eyes across the valley below. Every rock, every fallen log, seemed to mock him with its stillness. Just as he was about to release the breath he held captive, a flicker of movement in the shadows caught his peripheral vision. It was subtle, barely a ripple in the darkness, but enough to send a jolt of adrenaline through him.
"Yavuz," he hissed, nudging his companion with urgency. Yavuz, his normally jovial face etched with worry, mirrored Yasuji's action, scanning the valley with hawk-like focus. As their eyes adjusted to the gloom, a horrifying scene unfolded below.
Emerging from the veil of trees was a figure, its silhouette bulky and menacing. In its hand, glinting under the pale moonlight, was a massive axe – an instrument of destruction more suited to a battlefield than this peaceful valley. A cold knot of dread formed in Yasuji's stomach. It was the masked man they'd seen earlier, the one who had accosted Vivet.
Their worst fears were confirmed. The moonlight, filtering through the sparse clouds, illuminated the limp form of Vivet slung over the man's shoulder. Her once vibrant hair, usually styled in a playful braid, hung lifelessly against her back. A surge of anger and helplessness coursed through Yasuji. He slammed his fist against the rough earth, the sound muffled by the thick undergrowth. "Damn it!" he roared, his voice barely a whisper above a strangled cry.
Yavuz, ever the pragmatist, gripped his arm in a firm but reassuring grasp. "We have to help her," he said, his voice low and steady despite the tremor running through his hand. "He must probably be taking her to the old slaughterhouse I saw on the way."
The Old Slaughterhouse, a hulking structure on the far side of the valley, had a sinister reputation. Rumors swirled around it, whispers of dark rituals and unspeakable acts. It was not a place anyone willingly entered, especially not someone unconscious and at the mercy of a madman.
As they were about to charge down the hill, a flicker of movement in the distance caught Yavuz's eye. He squinted, his brow furrowing in concentration. "Shit," he breathed, his voice laced with a newfound urgency. "Ori's coming this way."
The news hit them like a physical blow. Ori, the relentless hunter they'd been trying to evade, was now heading straight for them. They were trapped between a rock and a hard place – saving Vivet or avoiding Ori's wrath. The world seemed to shrink around them, the air thick with the weight of their impossible choice.
Yasuji sucked in a deep breath, his mind racing with possibilities. Abandoning Vivet was unthinkable, but facing Ori head-on was a near suicide mission. They needed a plan, a clever maneuver to get them out of this dire situation.
"We can't abandon her," he said, his voice filled with a gritty determination. "Let's go down the hill before the Ori spot us, we need to stay hidden until we reach Vivet and the dagger."
Yavuz's eyes lit up with a gleam of understanding. "Exactly," he said, a hint of a plan forming in his usual determined expression. "We can go behind the trees so he can't see us from the top. Also folds will come in handy."
A sense of urgency fueled their movements as they descended the treacherous slope. They moved with a practiced efficiency, utilizing every shadow, every twist in the terrain to mask their approach. Their breaths came out in ragged gasps, the weight of their decision a heavy burden on their shoulders.
As they neared the outskirts of the valley, the sound of the masked man's heavy footsteps reached their ears. He was moving quickly, purposefully, towards the ominous silhouette of the Old Slaughterhouse. Yasuji's heart hammered a frantic rhythm against his ribs, urging him to move faster, to reach Vivet before it was too late.
Reaching the decrepit wooden fence that marked the perimeter of the slaughterhouse grounds, Yasuji knew a direct approach was suicide. He needed another way in, a backdoor that wouldn't alert the masked man and put Vivet in even greater danger.
His eyes darted around, searching for a glimmer of hope. Then, nestled between a ramshackle shed and the towering structure itself, he spotted a narrow alleyway, choked with overgrown weeds and shrouded in perpetual shadow. It was a slim chance, but it was their only one.
He nudged Yavuz, pointing towards the alley with a discreet gesture. Yavuz, understanding immediately, gave a curt nod. Together they plunged into the inky darkness, the damp earth sucking at their boots.