KamiKowa: That Time I Got Transmigrated With A Broken Goddess

The tension in the wagon had become so thick Xavier could practically taste it. Every bump in the road sent Naomi shifting against him, while Ashley's posture grew so rigid it seemed she might snap the reins in half.

Xavier checked his Soul Bond display, noting the numbers had shifted again. Naomi sat at 34%, unchanged from this morning. Ashley had jumped from 9% to 12%—not much, but considering their current circumstances, any increase felt significant.

"So, any idea what we might face between here and Hearthome?"

Naomi's fingers traced lazy circles on his chest through his coat. "Besides the usual monsters trying to eat us? I'm sure Ashley has thoughts."

"A few." Ashley's voice carried that particular edge that meant she was choosing her words very carefully. "The closer we get to Hearthome, the more patrols we'll encounter. Both theirs and... others."

"Others?"

"Winter Court scouts. They've been probing Hearthome's defenses for months." Ashley guided the wagon around a particularly deep rut. "Plus there are rumors about something new in the mountains. Something big."

"How big?" Naomi asked, finally showing interest in something other than territorial marking.

"Big enough that even the Rimeguard are nervous."

Xavier's nonchalant posture straightened. From his borrowed memories of this world, the Rimeguard didn't get nervous about much. They were the elite warriors who specialized in fighting winter beasts—if something had them spooked, it was worth worrying about.

"Any details?"

"Tracks, mostly. Massive ones, leading south toward the trade routes." Ashley's shoulders rolled, working out tension. "Whatever it is, it's new. The pattern doesn't match any known winter beast."

Before Xavier could ask for more, Dalen's voice carried back from the lead wagon.

"Thornslayer! Need you up here!"

"Stay put," Xavier told Naomi, gently extricating himself from her grip. She pouted but didn't argue, settling back against the wagon's side.

Xavier swung down from the moving wagon, his boots crunching into packed snow. He jogged forward to where Dalen rode alongside the lead wagon. The wind bit at his cheeks, and he pulled his collar up as he jogged forward to where Dalen rode, the older man's breath pluming in the frigid air.

"What's the problem?"

"See for yourself." Dalen pointed ahead to where the road curved around a stand of pine trees. "Gareth spotted something that's got him spooked."

They rounded the curve, and the road ahead was no longer empty.

Pressed deep into the snow beside the path were footprints. Massive ones. Each depression was easily three times the size of a man's boot, sunk so deep the creature that made them had to be impossibly heavy.

"When did Gareth spot these?"

"Just now. He rode ahead to scout the next waypoint and came galloping back with a face the color of old snow." Dalen's horse shifted nervously beneath him. "Says the prints follow the road for near a mile before heading off into the forest."

Xavier approached the nearest print, crouching down to examine it more closely. The impression was deep—whatever had made this was heavy. Very heavy. The shape was roughly humanoid, but the proportions were all wrong. The heel was too wide, the toes too long, suggesting an unnatural gait and a weight distribution he'd never seen.

"How old would you say these are?"

"Hour, maybe two at most." Dalen spat into the snow. "Thing is, Gareth came through here this morning on his way back from the waypoint. Says the road was clear then."

So whatever had made these tracks had passed through within the last few hours. Xavier stood, brushing snow from his gloves, and looked ahead down the road.

The prints marched on in a perfect, unerring line. Each stride was the exact same length.

Animals wandered. Monsters raged. This thing... this thing had the discipline of a soldier. It wasn't just walking; it was marching with cold, unrelenting purpose.

Behind them, the wagons had stopped. Xavier could hear Ashley's voice calling questions, though he couldn't make out the words over the wind.

"We need to see how far these go," Xavier said. "And where they're headed."

"That's what I was thinking. Question is, do we risk it, or do we turn around?"

Xavier weighed their options. Turning around meant at least two extra days of travel, assuming they could find an alternate route. It also meant using up supplies they couldn't afford to waste. But following a trail left by some unknown creature wasn't exactly appealing either.

His headache pulsed, that constant pull toward Hearthome and Calypso growing stronger. Every day they delayed was another day she remained trapped in this world, another day closer to whatever the prophecy said about their choice at the Heart of Winter.

"We follow the road," Xavier decided. "But carefully. I'll scout ahead."

"You sure about that? If this thing is as big as these prints suggest—"

"Then it won't be hiding in ambush," Xavier reasoned. "Something that large has no need for subtlety."

Xavier started back toward his wagon. "Give me ten minutes to get ready, then follow at a distance. If you hear fighting, turn around and find another route."

Dalen nodded grimly. "Understood. Though for what it's worth, I hope you're wrong about the not hiding part."

Xavier made his way back to Ashley's wagon, where both women were waiting.

"Well?" Naomi demanded before he'd even reached them.

"Giant footprints. Fresh. I'm going to scout ahead and identify the threat."

"Not happening." The words were out of Ashley's mouth before he'd even fully formed the plan. Her hand was already on the crossbow slung by her seat. "We don't split up."

"It's the smart play. If there's danger, one person is a smaller target than—"

Before he could finish, Ashley was climbing down from the driver's seat, her crossbow already in hand. "You want to scout? Fine. We scout."

Naomi nodded agreement. "She's right. Whatever's out there, we face it together."

"Fine." Xavier threw up his hands in a gesture of absolute surrender. Trapped between Naomi's stubborn pout and Ashley's unyielding glare, he felt the familiar pressure of a two-front war.

"My mistake. Ashley, you take point with that crossbow. Naomi, stay between us and watch our flanks. I'll handle anything that gets too close."

They set off down the road, following the massive prints. Ashley moved with the easy confidence of someone who'd spent years learning to fight, her crossbow held ready but not raised—prepared for trouble but not advertising it. Naomi stayed close to Xavier's left side, her own borrowed knife visible at her hip.

The prints continued for nearly half a mile, each one perfectly spaced and impossibly deep. Whatever had made them was methodical, purposeful. It wasn't wandering or hunting—it was traveling somewhere specific.

"There," Ashley whispered, pointing ahead to where the road curved around a rocky outcrop. "The tracks leave the road there."

She was right. The massive footprints veered off into the trees. But beyond them, past the dark trunks of the pines, something else caught Xavier's eye.

It was what the tracks were heading toward.

In the distance, barely visible through the trees, Xavier could make out structures. Not the rough stone of a waypoint, but something else. Something that looked almost like...

"Is that a village?" Naomi asked, following his gaze.

"Was," Ashley corrected grimly. "Look at the smoke."

Xavier squinted. Thin columns of smoke rose from the village, but not the cheerful white plumes of hearth fires. This smoke was greasy and black, carrying a faint, acrid scent on the wind that spoke of burning homes and something worse.

"We need to get back to the wagons," Ashley said. "Now."

"Wait." Xavier held up a hand. "Look at the tracks again."

They all looked down at the massive footprints leading toward the village. Then Ashley's face went pale.

"They're not coming from the village," she whispered. "They're going to it."