Morning brought no reprieve from the wind.
If anything, it felt stronger than it had during the night. Dust and grit seeped through the cracks in the door, leaving the room feeling coarse and grimy. The scent of charred wood still lingered from the cold hearth, and the air was bone-dry.
As soon as Koyoi woke, she checked her drawstring pouch. The empty bag shivered faintly in her hand, vibrating in sympathy with the wind weeping in the distance. When she stepped onto the ash of last night’s fire, it gave a small, sharp crackle. Cold soot clung to the soles of her feet, the remnants of the night lingering against her skin.
"Let’s move."
Asahi stood, his sword already slung across his back. Koyoi hurried to gather her things and follow him. She filled the canteens and repacked the dried herbs. Today’s wind felt even more treacherous than yesterday’s.
The dried rice cakes she ate for breakfast were hard; her jaw grew tired with every bite. But she knew she wouldn't last without something in her stomach. She swallowed the dry mouthfuls in silence.
The moment they stepped outside, a ferocious headwind slammed into them. It swept down from the mountain north of the village. The trees groaned and creaked like they were screaming, and dead leaves spiraled upward in miniature cyclones. This wasn't a normal wind. It was unnaturally heavy, as if charged with fury.
"...I smell something."
Koyoi covered her nose. It was the scent of iron—rusted metal and scorched oil. It was the same smell she had encountered back in Kirihara Town.
The smell of the Observers.
A metallic tang clung to the back of her throat, refusing to fade no matter how many times she swallowed.
"Yeah. They’re up to something," Asahi said, his face darkening as he looked toward the peaks. "The source is up there."
Above the mountain ridge, the clouds were spiraling in an unnatural vortex. She could see the wind being sucked into the center, only to be violently spat back out. A cold knot tightened in Koyoi’s chest, and she gripped her pouch tighter. The presence of the wind god within it trembled.
That trembling felt like a finger pressing against her spine, urging her forward.
They began their ascent, fighting against the gale. There was no path—only beast trails through dense, tangled brush. The higher they climbed, the more the air pressure increased. It felt as if an invisible force was trying to physically reject them, shouting Go no further. The wind whipped at Koyoi's hair and stung her cheeks like blades. She shielded her face with her sleeve, struggling to keep Asahi’s back in sight.
The grass beneath their feet was twisted at the roots, and the soil was parched and cracked. The wind was sucking the moisture out of everything; the entire mountain looked like withered, dying skin. Every time her throat went dry, Koyoi reached for her canteen, taking only tiny sips of water.
Her breath began to turn white. Despite the exertion, the wind was stripping the heat from her body. She moved carefully, avoiding the slick, loose rocks. Her feet ached, but the sound of the wind’s lament echoed in her ears, keeping her moving.
At one point, she spotted an old rope tangled at the base of a fallen tree. Perhaps someone had once offered a prayer here. Now, the hemp was dry and frayed; it crumbled into dust the moment she touched it. The utter lack of any other human presence felt eerie.
After an hour of climbing, they found it.
A metal stake was driven deep into the earth. It was as thick as a child’s arm, though its true length was hidden underground. It was made of a black, light-absorbing metal, its surface etched with precise, geometric patterns. A small red lamp at the top pulsed slowly. Even standing near it made the inside of Koyoi's ears ache with a low-frequency vibration.
The red light throbbed like a heartbeat, and with every pulse, the air around it rippled. Static electricity made Koyoi’s hair stand on end, and a fine numbness crawled up her fingertips.
"...This is it."
Koyoi stepped closer. The air was buzzing, vibrating with an intensity that made her skin crawl.
"An Observer’s Wedge," Asahi said. "It’s used to 'fix' the land. It seizes the ley lines and kills the natural flow of the earth."
"...Is that why the wind is going crazy?"
"Yeah. They’ve blocked the flow. The wind has nowhere to go, so it’s lashing out."
Asahi kicked the Wedge. It let out a dull, solid sound, refusing to budge. Sparks flew, and the red lamp flickered rapidly for a split second. Sand swirled around them, and Koyoi squinted. Small pebbles were drawn toward the Wedge as if by some strange magnetic force.
"If you dam a river, the water overflows. Wind is the same. They’re trying to choke the life force of this entire mountain."
Koyoi stared at the cold, mechanical object. This thing was hurting the god. This was what had birthed those shadow-monsters.
"Can we pull it out?"
Koyoi reached out and touched the metal. It was freezing. A sharp jolt of static bit her hand. She tried to pull with all her might, but it felt as if it were fused to the bedrock itself.
"It’s no use. You can’t pull it out with physical strength," Asahi said, shaking his head. "It’s locked in place by a ritual circuit. We have to cut it off at the source."
There was a simmering rage in Asahi’s voice. Knowing that his anger was directed at the forces hurting the mountain made Koyoi's heart swell.
"The source?"
"The ones who drove these Wedges in. Or the central hub controlling the whole system."
Asahi pointed further up, toward the summit. The wind was screaming from that direction. A low, tectonic rumble echoed through the ground. Yesterday’s shadow—or perhaps something much larger—was close. It was suffering. It was raging.
"...Help me."
She thought she heard a voice caught in the gale. A piteous cry, thin and high-pitched like a weeping child.
"...Did you hear that?" Koyoi asked.
"I didn't hear a thing," Asahi answered instantly. "But you did, didn't you?"
"Yes. It’s crying."
The sound was faint, shredded by the wind. Koyoi clenched her fists, telling herself she wouldn't let the pain stop her.
"Then that’s where we go," Asahi said, stepping forward without hesitation. "Let’s head toward the crying. Anyone who makes a god weep isn't walking away from this."
Against the backdrop of the storm, his back looked like a cliffside that no amount of wind could ever erode. As she followed him, Koyoi felt a warmth blooming in her chest. She was still afraid, but having Asahi in front of her turned that fear into the strength to keep walking.
A faint breeze leaked from her pouch, brushing coolly against her palm. It felt like an invitation. Let's go.
Koyoi gave a small nod, answering the wind. For a moment, Shiori’s smiling face flashed in her mind. The promise she had made—the promise to "deliver it"—still shone brightly in her heart.
Asahi was rough and blunt, but he was kind. That thought gave her comfort.
The two continued their climb. The wind intensified until it was a full tempest, threatening to tear them off the slope. Small stones flew through the air like shrapnel. Koyoi pressed close to Asahi’s back, using him as a shield. Above them, the sky over the summit was a swirling abyss of black clouds.
The air grew heavy, making her ears throb. Static made her skin feel gritty. Beneath the roar of the gale, she could hear the mechanical hum of machinery. Something was definitely operating up there.
The ground shook beneath her feet. It felt as if the mountain itself were breathing through the power of the wind. Koyoi bit her lip and refused to stop. The closer they got to the peak, the louder the crying of the wind became.
She didn't hear the crying with her ears anymore; she felt it in her chest. It synced with her heartbeat, pushing her forward from the inside. The desperation to help washed away the ache in her legs.
Asahi glanced back for a brief moment, his eyes meeting hers. He didn't say a word, but she felt the question: Can you make it? Koyoi nodded, and he turned back to the path.
The wind pulled at her hair, and she walked as if guided by its tug. The pebbles crunched underfoot, and the mountain groaned in response. The biting wind stung her cheeks, bringing tears to her eyes.
Her vision blurred, but her feet didn't falter. The summit was close. The metallic scent in the wind grew stronger. Her breath grew shallow. The wind howled. Then, a strange silence.
Something was waiting just ahead. The wind god, and those who sought to twist it. The end was near.