Isak and Leopold stepped out of Orawood and ventured towards the mountains, passing various bridges above rivers spread throughout and making their way towards the highlands of Malikan, which eventually led and carved the path towards the first signs of the Haran deserts.

Malikan and Harabara were split, however. Be it, the sea creeping in, which further separated a part of the Orange Mountains with Shimori, or the harsh landscapes resembling the Plateaus in Morta.

The end of Gorro meant humidity and warmth, and the darkened rocks only absorbed light instead, meaning that this passage was inaccessible to most if they didn't have a way to avoid stepping on the scorching terrain. However, to the demons who vowed to achieve a higher goal, not an obstacle on their path that would stop them.

If there was an issue, Isak was going to solve it.

He led the way, with Leopold in the back, and as time passed on, the dark green grasses and moss which first spotted the terrain started turning into reddish or even orange boulders, melting into bits of lava and towards an empty field were only a few red, viny-like plants grew. Passing the hellish atmosphere, the only thing separating the two demons between the Morians was the lack of any detail as to where they were supposed to go.

The sky grew a thick brown, but that didn't deter them, and they only stopped when the night forced them to, with a cold wave of air approaching from behind.

Isak settled onto the sand, and Leopold fixed his chains, cleaning the Los-Los Hammer with a small, patterned cloth. "Where to, now?" he asked, turning his head to Isak, who observed the dull flames.

"We're supposed to be waiting for Shi Hon's order," Isak snickered, followed by a shaky breath.

"Wasn't he sure about their location?" Leopold replied, fixing his mask.

Isak placed both thumbs on his forehead. He seemed frustrated by something. "When we first set out, Shi Hon told us that they'd be in Malikan, and as you can probably tell, that was a dud." he dug his fingers into the sand. "Bargh, heading into towns would've only brought disaster and without better preparation, they'd kill us on the spot. Even a wish or magic wouldn't save us." he folded his arms.

Isak turned his one open eye to the latter, and Leopold backed out, calmly.

"In some Haran villages, people left what they liked to call, ever-changing notes," Leopold uttered.

"Huh?"

"Polytheism. They say that a deity's will must deliver something of great importance. Pens seemingly move around, and writing appears, telling you what must be done." Leopold raised his head. "You told me once, that you can hear his voice, instructing you where to head. Is that true?"

"Yes."

"Then, do you think Shi Hon is God to demons?"

Isak closed the other eye. "He'd probably tell you something about bonds connecting us, but I feel as if it was just another trick up his sleeve." he turned. "The further I go, the less pressure I feel, the quieter his voice becomes. The further the Morians travel, the less we have to try and pretend."

Leopold's eyes shone white. "I'm not pretending."

"Surely, Leopold." Isak snickered. "Surely, this is what you wanted to do from the very beginning." he stood up, pushing some of the sand away with his foot.

Leopold stared at the fire. Embers never reflected one's expressions, but just for a moment there, Leopold felt like he could spot the person waiting on the other side of the mask.

"Damn it, the sun's already coming up. Gorro sucks in Harabara, but at least it's ending." he ground his teeth. "Come on, Leopold. You told me you'd know how to navigate this place." Isak asked, putting his hand above his eyes. "Leopold?"

Leopold dug a hand into the sand. "You know what happened to Lisbeth."

"...and what does she have to do with this?" Isak asked, closing his one eye. "Shi Hon won't know, I'm sure of it."

"Are you taking the same risk? Back then, she barely convinced you to join her side. Now look at you, Isak." Leopold straightened up as well.

"Who are you to talk?" Isak furrowed his brows.

"Shi Hon saved my life," Leopold uttered. "...and I'm not going to go against his wishes."

Isak stared into Leopold's pupils. For a moment there, he too, could feel like there was something more to this entire ordeal. Much like a cave with an entrance hidden by rubble, or treasure hidden behind the waterfall, if he could reach his hand out and rip that canine skull off, he could see what Leopold meant.

Then again, he was always cryptic.

"Appearing one day out of the blue and suddenly becoming his best minion over these years," Isak spoke. "Surely, Leopold."

Leopold kicked out the campfire and put his hand on the chain resting on the ground, fixing it on his back.

One last glimpse and Isak sighed, scratching his cheek. "I'm not going to be some sort of demonic vigilante. I want these little fuckers dead, and that doesn't change with time. Do songs ever stray back and sing about death instead of life? No, they don't. So you can think that I'm singing, but I switched up the lyrics to be something that better fits my voice. Whether you like it or not, I'm going to find the Morians in my way."

"What's your way?"

"A path that isn't composed of ridiculous things and problems that can't be solved." he grinned. "Until a demon's needs are fully satisfied, they'll keep killing."

Leopold put his hand on his elbow and followed Isak forward.

***

Basing his facts off various stories and telltales passed from one Paladian to another Turon, Atomu only had a general idea of the thing the Klakunhoi were to search for. Naturally, the best course of action was moving back towards the Muk-Shadun Cliffs and deciding which split path they were to take.

Westling was, obviously, too close to the mountains, and Hallows would only lead them back towards Prope Portam, so naturally, they were either to head south and in the general direction of Saphrith, or further south.

However, such concerns were postponed to the time they would reach Muk-Shadun again since the way back was much harder to navigate than the way to the algae lakes. Somehow, it was Atomu's fault that he messed up the routes in the Felix Forest, but then again, Rowan swore both were making the right decisions, since "this river was always there, therefore, we must be taking the right path!"

Rowan's thinking seldom steps down and averages Klakunhoi's intelligence.

So, instead of reaching the fields, they moved into a small orange forest down the hill with no paths leading back towards the open areas or traces of what they once trod. Sure, they could see the oaken trees and a few coniferous trees that made Felix, but there was a mountain on the other side. Either they continued into Silva Tops, or massive cliffs erected themselves overnight.

The Tantum Mountain was always there, and later on, Atomu recalled the story of a Dearfest tradition on the same mountaintops.

A group of Paladians pretended to be demons, while the others, acted out as Demonears, vigilantly trying to mimic the spare descriptions of the last season of the Second War. Some took this as an opportunity to celebrate, while others were very serious about such kerfuffles.

You could imagine the person who, each consecutive year, tried to be Norbert Kris, reenacting the key run to Shimori, so the pressure was getting heavier and heavier. Tantum was a good enough replica of the Empty Fields, spare the few snow patches on its higher points and you've got a miniature version of what once was Erania, however, as time went on, such Paladians discovered that the Orange Willows, not so far from Prope Portam had such empty terrain as well, which probably lead to the dragon marking Chyuuichi spotted back then.

The orange-leaved birches moved into oaks again, which forced a change into maples, as the terrain became familiar, albeit still not what they trod.

Atomu lied to Chyuuichi that they were surely taking the right path, now stressed as each step didn't seem to suggest anything positive. With the sunlight slowly hiding behind the horizon, the two realised how far they managed to go, fueled by the prosperous idea of saving their friend's life. It seemed that running was in Paladian blood, and Rowan had to keep up with his pace.

The moon rose with a sunset. Atomu was stressed out of his mind, Rowan was pissed off, and Chyuuichi admired the willow trees which grew in spots where no other barks appeared.

Lignorian squirrels ran around its branches, eventually disappearing behind its leaves.

"Atomu, how far 'till we get there?" the Mirillian asked.

"I'm working on it," he answered, brushing sweat off his forehead and tracing the plants which grew around the forest.

"You're doing nothing," Rowan whispered, grinding their teeth.

"Ya know, I swear I've seen this stupid tree before." Chyuuichi pondered, stepping back, and putting a hand on his chin.

"You're the one who told me to follow the damn river!" Atomu mouthed, moving his hands back and forth.

"Oh, so you suddenly don't have a hunch or any Paladian knowledge of this forest? Wasn't it obvious that we should've turned back a long time ago?!" Rowan continued.

"Yeah," Chyuuichi added, putting his hand on the tree. "There's the thing that made it stupid in the first place!" he turned to the open crack in the bark, splitting towards the roots which connected everything back near the ground. "Right before I got shot!" he ran around, spotting something in the distance.

"It's always like that with your people!" Rowan continued, fixing their glasses.

"Guys!" Chyuuichi raised his voice, with a smile.

"I'm sorry?! What did you say?!"

"Paladians are awful at-"

"GUYS!" Chyuuichi yelled.

"WHAT?!" The two quickly turned, moving their gazes to where Chyuuichi was pointing. His finger landed on something that wasn't very far. Namely, the hill where the Mirillian got shot.

Atomu and Rowan looked at each other and mutually decided not to speak of such ever again. The Muk-Shadun cliffs too, extended above the horizon.

However, they wouldn't tempt fate by travelling at night or resting on the same hill again. Nestling between a few rocks and bushes, finding a small patch of grass which Chyuuichi hadn't used to stretch his limbs out, they rested for the next hours and woke up in the morning.

The sun wasn't there to guide them, but a hunch, as well as their goals. They had no time to think things through, as it was either the hours rushing in or the realisation that there was no other hope to hold onto.

A road towards hope. A gleaming light in the distance, which was to both save Chyuuichi and bury Bancho's body in what some think is magical soil.

Despite Orania being their sole destination for now, they still had to face the decision of choosing the right path, and that's when the Mirillian proposed going south-west, as a third option. After a few minutes of a shallow argument, they followed his words, which, for the time being, seemed to bring great fortune.

The first days were a pretty simple stroll through what the olden Paladians like to call the Plum Fields, named after the fruits growing deep in the ground, tucked away beneath long and dry, yellow grass. Such foods grew in Prope Portam as well, but it was this place that sparked a discovery of a rather sour ingredient usually used in a specific sauce mixed with sap to further enhance the flavour of meats.

The green plant grew a little, and dove into the dirt, making you search for the prize instead. It didn't require any sunlight, so tent houses in Prope Portam had at least a few in their gardens. It became a yearly competition, where families competed to create the best sauce, and it was usually the Maluskis who won.

Open fields led to a simple path, as what they were to tread was visible in the distance. Passing over Muk-Shadun led to the views of the Scabba Mountains, sharp peaks, although always snowless, hiding a small forest behind a few dark red uphills.

Following a few valleys between barks, stumbling around various weeds and into a small cave of the Scabba, serving as a connector to the other part of Orawood. Soon after passing by the windy peaks, the crimson changed into a thick, velvety forest, consisting mostly of chestnuts and oaks, in a zig-zag-like pattern.

One thing about this section which made it stand out amongst all the others was the ever-present water streams swimming in and out of various rivers. The walkable parts were cliffs, either coated with orange moss or revealing boulders, seldom connected with wooden bridges, old and shaky.

Essentially, small isles around a big one, hidden inside a forest and much more dangerous than one would've imagined. It seemed that hazard stemmed from what made Orawood, and not what resided in it, at least for now.

On one occasion, a plank split into two right below Chyuuichi's feet, leading to a wild goose chase around the rivers and finally finding him crashed near a shore, below the road they were originally trying to follow.