The air was thick with tension as the Deborers closed in, their grotesque forms blending into the shadows of the ruined buildings. Yeon-ah's grip on her sword tightened, her knuckles white as she steadied her breath. This was it. There was no running this time.
The woman beside her—calm, composed, and lethal—stood like a statue. Her eyes flickered with focus, and her body was poised for the oncoming storm. Even though they were outnumbered, she showed no signs of fear.
Yeon-ah's heart pounded in her chest. She could feel the tremors of doubt creeping in, but she quickly pushed them aside. This was no time for hesitation. Survive. Fight. Those were the words she repeated in her mind as the Deborers charged forward.
The first creature lunged, claws outstretched and mouth agape in a silent snarl. It moved with unnatural speed, its twisted body a blur of motion. But the woman was faster. With one fluid motion, her sword flashed through the air, and the Deborer's head hit the ground with a sickening thud before its body even collapsed.
Yeon-ah's breath caught in her throat. The precision, the strength—it was almost inhuman. But before she could dwell on it, another Deborer lunged toward her.
Her instincts kicked in. She swung her sword wide, but the creature was faster. Its claws grazed her arm, slicing through the fabric of her jacket and drawing a thin line of blood. The sting of the wound was sharp, but it only fueled her resolve.
With a sharp cry, she pivoted, bringing her sword down with all her strength. The blade connected with the Deborer's shoulder, cutting deep into its flesh. The creature let out a guttural hiss, stumbling back as dark blood poured from the wound.
But it wasn't dead.
Yeon-ah's heart raced as the creature recovered, its black eyes gleaming with fury. She could see the madness in its gaze, the hunger. But there was something else there too—something twisted, like a mockery of intelligence.
"Focus, Yeon-ah!" the woman's voice snapped her out of her thoughts. The woman was already dispatching another Deborer, her movements a blur of lethal precision.
Yeon-ah gritted her teeth. She couldn't afford to hesitate any longer.
The Deborer lunged again, and this time, Yeon-ah was ready. She sidestepped the creature's attack, using its own momentum against it. As it stumbled past her, she drove her sword into its back, pushing with all her strength until the blade pierced through to the other side.
The creature let out one final, agonized shriek before collapsing to the ground, lifeless.
Yeon-ah stood over the body, her chest heaving with exertion. She wiped the sweat from her brow, her hands trembling as she tried to steady her breathing. The adrenaline was still coursing through her veins, making her feel light-headed.
The woman finished off the last of the Deborers with a swift, clean strike, her face betraying no emotion as she wiped her blade on the torn fabric of her sleeve.
Yeon-ah glanced at the woman, her heart still racing. "How... how do you do it?" she asked, her voice barely above a whisper. "How do you stay so calm?"
The woman sheathed her sword, her gaze hard and unreadable. "You learn to be calm when you've seen enough death."
Yeon-ah's stomach twisted at the coldness in her voice. There was no comfort in her words, only a stark reminder of the world they now lived in—a world where survival meant hardening your heart.
But Yeon-ah wasn't like her. Not yet.
They moved through the ruined city in silence, the weight of the battle still hanging over them. Yeon-ah's arm throbbed where the Deborer had clawed her, but she kept moving, determined not to show weakness.
The city had become a graveyard. Broken buildings loomed on either side of the narrow streets, their windows shattered, their walls scarred by the devastation that had torn the world apart. Occasionally, Yeon-ah would catch a glimpse of movement—rats scurrying through the rubble, or the distant silhouette of a bird circling above—but otherwise, the city was eerily silent.
"We'll rest soon," the woman said, breaking the silence. Her voice was low, but there was a weariness to it that hadn't been there before.
Yeon-ah nodded, though she wasn't sure rest would come easily. Her mind was still reeling from the fight, the fear and adrenaline mingling in a way that left her feeling jittery and on edge.
They found shelter in the remains of a small shop, the windows long since broken and the door barely hanging on its hinges. Inside, it was dark, the only light coming from the faint glow of the setting sun through the cracks in the walls.
The woman sat down near the back, her eyes scanning the room as if expecting another attack at any moment. Yeon-ah hesitated before sitting down across from her, the weight of exhaustion finally catching up to her.
"You fought well," the woman said after a long pause, her voice surprisingly soft.
Yeon-ah blinked, caught off guard by the compliment. "I... I was just trying to survive," she admitted, her voice quiet.
The woman nodded, her expression unreadable. "That's all any of us can do. Survive."
Yeon-ah stared at the ground, her mind swirling with thoughts. Surviving wasn't enough for her, though. Not anymore. She wanted more than just to survive—she wanted to be strong, to be capable. She wanted to be able to protect herself, to fight back against the world that had taken everything from her.
"Teach me," Yeon-ah said suddenly, her voice firmer than she expected. "Teach me how to fight like you."
The woman's eyes flickered with something—surprise, maybe, or amusement—but it was gone as quickly as it had come. She leaned back slightly, studying Yeon-ah for a moment before responding.
"You think it's that simple?"
Yeon-ah shook her head. "No, but I want to learn. I need to learn."
There was a long silence as the woman considered her. Then, finally, she sighed. "We'll see."
It wasn't a yes, but it wasn't a no either. And for now, that was enough.