For a few seconds after that incomplete answer, Strax remained motionless, simply observing Ouroboros with absolute attention, as if any microexpression, any minimal change in its breathing could say more than words. The rain continued to fall around them, fine, constant, trickling down its white scales and sliding along the edges of the wings that still partially protected it, creating a continuous sound that filled the silence without truly breaking it, while the world around them seemed to slowly resume its movement.

Without saying anything more at that moment, Strax began to move. First, he gently folded his wings, not abruptly, but carefully, like someone avoiding exposing something fragile to the outside environment. Then, he leaned his body and slid one of his paws under Ouroboros, lifting it firmly, but without any trace of roughness, as if he were handling something that could fall apart at the slightest mistake. Its weight, even in that form, wasn’t a problem—it never had been—but there was a clear difference in how he carried it now.

Ouroboros couldn’t resist.

Neither physically.

Nor emotionally.

Her body remained partially relaxed against him, still heavy with fatigue and accumulated pain, while her eyes, now more lucid, slowly followed the movement around her. Each breath still required effort, but there was awareness there—a real presence—and that, in itself, completely changed the scenario compared to hours before.

Strax then opened her wings again, but this time not to protect.

To rise.

The impulse was controlled, precise, lifting them both from the center of the crater while small stones and loose earth were displaced by the force of the movement. The rain continued, now directly touching Ouroboros’s body, slowly washing away the traces of the combat—dried blood, dust, residual energy—leaving only what truly mattered: she was still there.

The flight was short.

Just long enough to take them out of the crater and reach the more stable edge, where the terrain was no longer completely destroyed. Strax landed carefully, absorbing the impact with his own body before slowly lowering Ouroboros to the ground, allowing her to stand on her own, albeit with some difficulty.

Not far away, leaning against the trunk of a tree partially intact from the fall, were Scarlett and Tiamat.

Both were in their human forms now.

Their posture was relaxed at first glance, but there was enough tension to indicate that this "rest" was more vigilance than true tranquility. Scarlett kept her arms crossed, her gaze fixed on the crater even before it appeared, while Tiamat rested her shoulder on the tree, one leg slightly bent, as if she had been waiting for that very moment.

And then they saw.

Ouroboros.

Conscious.

Standing.

The reaction was immediate—subtle, but impossible to ignore.

Scarlett’s shoulders relaxed slightly, almost imperceptibly, as Tiamat exhaled through her nose in a small sigh, like someone finally allowing their body to release from a state of continuous alert.

"It took a while," said Scarlett, her voice calm but with a slight trace of relief hidden behind the neutral tone, as she uncrossed her arms and straightened up against the tree. "You managed to cause quite a bit of trouble in a short time."

Tiamat let out a short laugh beside her, uncrossing her arms and taking a step forward, observing Ouroboros from head to toe with an analytical but non-hostile gaze.

"Quite a bit indeed," she added, with a slight smile at the corner of her lips. "I almost thought we were going to have to bury you right there."

Ouroboros lowered her gaze slightly at that.

Not out of excessive shame.

But out of recognition.

"...sorry," she said again, her voice even lower now, more steady than before, but carrying the same weight. Her shoulders were slightly tense, as if she were still trying to understand her own body, her own mind, what had happened.

For a moment, no one answered.

And then—

Tiamat took another step closer.

And, without warning—

She gave Ouroboros a firm slap on the back.

The dry sound echoed softly in the humid air, but it wasn’t an aggressive blow—it was... almost casual, almost familiar.

"It’s alright," she said immediately afterward, with a half-smile, as if that were enough to end any excessive weight in the situation. "You just tried to kill us, nothing out of the ordinary."

Ouroboros blinked once, surprised by the reaction, and then let out a small laugh.

Low.

Short.

But... real.

"It was amazing to take you down, by the way," Tiamat continued, crossing her arms again as she tilted her head slightly, studying her with a faint glint of interest. "It even reminded me of old times."

Ouroboros raised an eyebrow slightly.

"Old times?" she repeated, her voice still a little weak.

Tiamat shrugged.

"When we hated each other," she replied casually, as if speaking of something trivial. "It was more fun."

Scarlett let out a small nasal sound beside her, almost a suppressed laugh.

"You call that fun," she commented, looking at the two with a calculated, slight disinterest. "I’d call it chaotic and unnecessarily destructive."

"Same thing," Tiamat retorted immediately.

Ouroboros let out another small laugh, this time a little more relaxed, though still heavy with weariness. The weight in the air lessened slightly—not completely, but enough to make the moment more... human.

Strax, who had returned to human form during the process, watched everything silently for a few seconds, ensuring—once again—that Ouroboros was indeed stable enough to stand on her own. Only then did he shift his gaze from the group to the horizon, analyzing the surrounding terrain, the position of the sun hidden by the clouds, and finally spoke again.

"We’ve strayed quite far from the original course," he said, his voice calm but direct, bringing the focus back to the practical reality of the situation. He crossed his arms slightly, looking at Scarlett. "Where are we?"

Scarlett didn’t answer immediately.

Instead, she reached into the side of her clothing and pulled out the map Monica had prepared, still protected despite the light rain. With an agile movement, she partially opened it, holding it by the edges as her eyes quickly scanned the markings.

The paper was slightly damp, but the lines were still visible.

She analyzed.

She compared.

She recalculated.

"Considering the direction of the fall... and the distance you traveled before intercepting it..." she began, her voice taking on a more technical, more precise tone, as she slightly tilted the map to align it with the surrounding terrain.

She pointed to a specific spot.

"We should be here," she said, tapping her finger lightly on the parchment.

Strax moved a little closer to see.

Tiamat did too.

Ouroboros just watched from where it stood, still recovering.

"This is..." Strax narrowed his eyes slightly.

"Further north than planned," Scarlett finished. "And a little off to the east."

She looked up.

"Much more than ideal."

Tiamat let out a small sigh.

"Great," she murmured. "Detour, fall, near-death experience... perfect journey so far."

Scarlett ignored the comment.

"If we go straight back to the original route, we lose time," she continued, pointing to another line on the map. "But if we adjust from here—"

She traced a new path with her finger.

"We can make up some of the distance."

Strax was silent for a moment, analyzing.

Calculating.

And then nodded slightly.

"We’ll do that after she’s stable," he said, tilting his head slightly toward Ouroboros.

Scarlett didn’t disagree.

Neither did Tiamat.

Because, at that moment—

The route wasn’t the biggest problem.

Ouroboros was.

And everyone knew it.

Strax remained silent for a few more seconds, his eyes still on the map as his mind quickly reorganized priorities, recalculating not only distance and time, but conditions, risks, and the true state of Ouroboros. The route to the capital still existed, it was still viable—but, at that moment, it was no longer the main focus.

He slowly raised his gaze.

Not to the horizon.

But to her.

Ouroboros was still standing, but it was clear—to someone like him—that it was held up more by willpower than by actual stability. His breathing was still heavy, his body still too rigid in some places and too loose in others, as if not completely in sync with itself.

Staying there... made no sense.

"No," he said suddenly, interrupting his previous train of thought.

Scarlett raised an eyebrow slightly.

Tiamat tilted her head.

Strax uncrossed his arms and took a step closer to the map, but now with a different focus.

"Forget the route for now," he continued, his voice firm, direct, without hesitation. "Staying in the forest in this state is a terrible idea."

His gaze quickly swept over Ouroboros again before returning to Scarlett.

"She needs structure. Shelter. Stability."

It wasn’t a suggestion.

It was a decision.

Scarlett watched him for a moment, assessing not only what had been said, but the weight behind the change. Then, without arguing, she slightly adjusted the map in her hands and began to look for new landmarks.

"Nearby towns..." she murmured, more to herself than to the others, as her eyes quickly scanned the smaller markings, villages, trading posts, and secondary routes.

She rotated the map slightly, aligning it better with the terrain.

"If we’re really here..." she said, pointing again to the estimated position, "then the nearest one isn’t in the original direction."

Tiamat made a small sound through her nose.

"Of course not."

Scarlett ignored it.

"There’s a smaller town to the west," she continued, sliding her finger across the parchment. "It’s not large, but it’s functional. It should have lodging, basic healers, and enough movement to avoid drawing unnecessary attention."

Strax tilted his head slightly.

"Distance?"

Scarlett calculated for a few seconds.

"If we fly at a controlled pace... a few hours," she replied. "If we go on the ground, maybe a whole day."

Tiamat crossed her arms.

"Flying, then," she said immediately. "The less time she’s exposed, the better."

Strax didn’t answer immediately.

He looked at Ouroboros again.

This time, more attentive.

More specific.

"Can you fly?" he asked, directly, without softening the question.

Ouroboros hesitated.

That alone was answer enough.

"...I can," she said, but the slight pause before the word didn’t go unnoticed. Her voice was still steady, but there was a structural weariness there—not superficial.

Tiamat glanced sideways at her.

"Can you do it or will you try?" she asked, without filter.

Ouroboros didn’t answer immediately this time.

And that confirmed it.

Strax let out a small sigh through his nose.

"Then no," he concluded simply.

He wouldn’t pressure her.

Not now.

Scarlett partially closed the map, keeping her finger marking the city’s position.

"We can take turns anyway," she suggested. "One carries, the others follow. Less distributed effort."

Strax nodded slightly.

"I’ll start," he said, already making the decision without needing to prolong the discussion.

Tiamat raised an eyebrow.

"Of course you start."

There was a slight hint of provocation there.

But it didn’t go beyond that.

Strax completely ignored the comment.

He took a few steps toward Ouroboros, stopping directly in front of her, assessing her condition once more before acting.

"No unnecessary effort," he said, his voice lower now, but firm. "You rest. That’s all."

Ouroboros opened her mouth as if to reply—perhaps to argue, perhaps to insist—but stopped before saying anything.

Because she knew.

She wasn’t in a position to argue.

"...okay," she murmured finally, glancing slightly for a moment before returning to him.

Tiamat watched the exchange in silence, then let out a small sigh, uncrossing her arms.

"Good," she said, glancing quickly at Scarlett. "At least we have a temporary destination."

Scarlett nodded slightly.

"Small town, less surveillance, more control," she added. "It’s the best option at the moment."