Chapter 410: Leave Me Behind!

Mika ran.

He ran through the twisted forest, over roots and rocks, under low-hanging branches.

He ducked behind trees at exactly the right moment, causing their pursuers to lose sight of them.

He crawled through undergrowth so thick that the grown warriors couldn’t follow.

He doubled back, created false trails, used every trick imaginable to throw them off.

He moved with an agility that seemed impossible for a child his age.

And somehow he managed to escape from the initial chase.

Astrid clung to his back, her arms wrapped around his neck, her legs dangling uselessly.

She could feel his heart pounding against her chest, could hear his breathing growing more labored with each passing minute.

But he never stopped. Never slowed. Never gave up.

Behind them, the sounds of pursuit faded.

They had lost them.

Temporarily.

—

The demi-human warriors gathered in the forest, breathing hard, their faces twisted with rage.

"WHERE DID THEY GO?!"

"THAT CHILD—HE WAS JUST A CHILD—HOW DID HE—"

"SPREAD OUT! FIND THEM! THEY CAN’T HAVE GONE FAR!"

But no matter how they searched, no matter how many warriors they deployed, they couldn’t find the two children.

It was humiliating.

Infuriating.

Impossible.

How could a single five-year-old boy—smaller than the girl he was carrying outwit an entire army of trained warriors?

But what they didn’t know was that Mika wasn’t just any ordinary child.

He had a special constitution—one that, even at his young age, granted him enhanced speed and strength.

It wasn’t a blessing. But it was something. Enough to give him an edge.

And more than that?

He had already begun to explore the techniques of the reconstructing mana.

Small spells.

Minor manipulations.

Just enough to create distractions—the explosions that had scattered the army, the flashbangs that had blinded them at critical moments, the shockwaves that had knocked warriors off their feet.

It wasn’t much.

But combined with his wits, his instincts, his sheer determination—

It was enough to evade the pursuers.

But the demi-humans didn’t give up.

They couldn’t.

This world was completely enclosed—a pocket dimension created by the prince’s ancient magic.

The only way out was through a single transportation pearl, held by the leader of their force.

No messages could be sent.

No help could arrive.

The children were trapped here, with them.

And they had numbers.

Patience.

Time.

So they hunted.

Day after day.

Night after night.

—

At first, Mika was able to keep them at bay.

He was clever, quick, resourceful.

He found hiding spots, created false trails, used the terrain to his advantage.

Even carrying Astrid on his back, he could outmaneuver the warriors who chased them.

But Astrid...

Astrid was not doing well.

When she had been pulled through the vortex, she hadn’t escaped unscathed.

A heavy object—a piece of debris, maybe, or part of the garden’s structure had struck her head during the chaos.

A gash on her scalp oozed blood, which Mika had tried to bandage with leaves and strips of fabric torn from his own clothes.

But worse than that?

Her legs.

She didn’t know when it had happened—maybe during the fall, maybe when she landed in this world—but both of her legs were broken.

She couldn’t walk. Couldn’t run. Couldn’t even stand.

She was completely dependent on Mika to carry her everywhere.

And as the days passed, things got worse.

The wounds became infected.

Her head injury festered.

Her body grew weaker and weaker.

Of course, Fauna had anticipated such situations.

She made sure every family member carried healing supplies—potions, artifacts, emergency medical kits.

But in this strange world, nothing worked.

The artifacts wouldn’t activate.

The storage ring Fauna had given Astrid wouldn’t open.

They had nothing but what they could find in the forest.

Leaves for bandages.

Stream water for drinking.

Edible roots and berries when they could find them.

It wasn’t enough.

It would never be enough.

—

"Mika..."

After a few days, Astrid’s voice was barely a whisper now. Hoarse. Weak.

They were hiding in a small hollow beneath a fallen tree, the latest in a long line of temporary shelters.

Astrid lay on a bed of leaves, her face pale, her breathing shallow.

Mika sat beside her, watching the entrance, ever vigilant.

"Mika, listen to me."

He turned to look at her, and she saw it in his eyes—the exhaustion, the worry, the desperate determination to keep going.

But also something else.

Love.

Pure, unwavering love.

"You...have to leave me."

His expression didn’t change.

"Mika, please. I’m holding you back. My injuries—the infection—I’m not going to make it. You know that. I know that."

She reached out with a trembling hand and grabbed his sleeve.

"If you keep carrying me, they’ll catch us both. But if you go alone—if you run without me—you might survive. You could hide until help comes. You could—"

But then she gave up trying to persuade him with logic and broke down saying,

"Mika, please."

Tears streamed down her cheeks.

"I-I don’t want to die, Mika. I’m so scared. I’m so, so scared. But the thought of you dying because of me—the thought of them catching you too—that’s worse. That’s so much worse."

She squeezed his sleeve.

"So, please. Please just go. Leave me here. Save yourself."

Her body shook with sobs.

"Just...just tell Mama I love her. Tell Charlotte and Anya and...and...I love them. Tell Auntie Yelena and Auntie Fauna and...and...everyone...tell them I love them so much."

She looked at him with pleading eyes.

"And tell yourself, Mika. Tell yourself that your big sister loved you more than anything in the world. Because I do. I love you so much. And that’s why you have to go."

Hearing this desperate plea, Mika stared at her for a long moment.

His expression was unreadable.

Seeing this, Astrid’s heart ached.

She could see him thinking, weighing options, considering her words.

And even though she had begged him to leave, even though she knew it was the right choice, seeing him actually consider it made something inside her crumble.

’He’s going to leave.’

’He’s going to agree.’

’He’s going to go, and I’ll never see him again, and I’ll die here alone, and—’

But before she could think of anything else—

He chuckled.

Astrid blinked.

"What...What are you laughing about?"

Mika shook his head, a small smile playing on his lips.

"You know what I love, Astrid?"

She stared at him, confused. "What?"

"Sleep."

"...What?"

"Sleep." He repeated. "I love sleeping. It’s the best. When you’re asleep, you don’t have to think about anything. You don’t have to worry about anything."

"You can just...drift away. It’s the only time my brain actually shuts up."

Astrid had no idea where this was going.

"But you know what the best sleep in the world is?"

She shook her head weakly.

"The best sleep I ever had—the best sleep I could ever imagine was when I was surrounded by your tails."

Her breath caught.

"I’m serious. Those fluffy, soft, amazing tails of yours? They’re better than any blanket. Better than any bed. Better than anything."

He smiled at her—a genuine, warm, loving smile.

"Ever since I was little, I’ve been coddled by your tails. Spoiled by them. And now? I’ve reached a point where if I don’t sleep with your tails—if I don’t feel them from time to time, if I can’t use them as my pillow—I literally can’t sleep."

He reached out and gently touched one of her tails, still wrapped around her despite everything.

"So here’s the thing, Astrid."

He firmly said with conviction in his eyes.

"I value sleep more than almost anything in the world. And you’re essential to my sleep. So..."

"...there’s no way I’m abandoning you."

"No way I’m leaving you behind. I’m going to keep you by my side no matter what."

Astrid stared at him.

And then—she understood.

He wasn’t talking about sleep.

He was talking about her.

About how much she meant to him.

About how she was necessary in his life.

About how without her, he couldn’t move forward.

About how he loved her.

He loved her.

The tears that fell now weren’t from fear or desperation.

They were from overwhelming, heartbreaking, soul-crushing love.

"Mika..." She sobbed. "Mika, please. You don’t have to do this. You don’t have to hold onto me."

"Please, just—"

But he just shook his head.

"No."

He stood up, then gently lifted her into his arms again.

"Come on. I found a good hiding spot. Let’s get you settled."

He carried her to a small cave hidden behind a waterfall—a place so well-concealed that even the most determined hunters would struggle to find it.

Inside, it was dry and relatively warm.

He laid her down on a bed of soft moss he had gathered, then covered her with leaves and vines until she was completely hidden from view.

Astrid watched him work, her heart breaking and mending at the same time.

When he was done, he knelt beside her.

"Astrid."

She looked at him.

"If this goes on too long, the infection will spread. Your body will deteriorate. And we don’t know if help is coming. We don’t know if anyone will find us."

She nodded weakly.

"So there’s only one way we’re going to survive."

He looked at her with eyes that held no fear—only determination.

"We fight back."

Astrid’s eyes widened.

"Mika, you can’t—they’re an entire army—you’re just one person—"

He smiled.

A small, sad, heartbreaking smile.

"Then I’ll just have to be enough."

He leaned forward and pressed his forehead against hers.

"I love you, Astrid. More than anything. And I’m going to protect you. No matter what it takes."

Before she could respond, before she could beg him to stay, before she could say anything at all—

He stood up.

Moved to the cave entrance.

And began covering it with rocks and vines, sealing her inside.

"MIKA! MIKA, NO! PLEASE! DON’T LEAVE ME! DON’T—"

But his face, visible through the shrinking gap, was calm.

Peaceful.

Loving.

"Rest, Astrid. I’ll be back."

And then—

Darkness.

She was alone.

And somewhere outside, her five-year-old little brother was going to fight an army.

For her.