This Was My Escape Route

The Great Night Hawk felt the person in its embrace stretching his body.

It was a little surprised. It had thought it had already secured this meal.

It was somewhat displeased, but it did not dare forcefully tighten its wings. It could only follow Hope's movements and spread them slightly, leaving him room to move.

The human was too weak to stand steadily, yet as he looked at the Great Night Hawk, there was neither fear nor ingratiation in his eyes.

The Great Night Hawk did not care what he looked like. It merely found him interesting.

The human seemed to be talking, his mouth opening and closing.

His voice was too low for the Great Night Hawk to hear clearly, so it leaned closer.

"...Next, I'm going to run to the left," the human said. "My left. If you understand me, could you move aside?"

Naturally, the Great Night Hawk did not answer. It raised its wings, patterned in black, white, and yellow. When it stood up, it was as tall as Hope, its wings just able to encircle his shoulders like half a birdcage.

It wanted to trap its food like this, but the human took several steps back. This time, his voice was louder. "Then same as before. I'm going to vault over your wing."

The human began his run-up, angling toward his left. The Great Night Hawk prepared itself, flapping its wings and hovering in midair, always blocking the human's path.

The human drew near, aiming for the Great Night Hawk's right wing. The Great Night Hawk viciously swung its wing, intending to knock the human flying as it had before...

It missed.

As he approached, the human abruptly changed direction without warning. With his current physical condition, enduring that acceleration could not have felt good. The Great Night Hawk saw him grit his teeth.

Yet in another instant, the human had reached the other side.

He did not have time to go around the Great Night Hawk. He pressed down on its wing with both hands. That was a sign that his strength was spent; one hand alone was no longer enough to support his next move.

He jumped, vaulting over the feathered wall blocking his way.

The Great Night Hawk... watched with satisfaction as astonishment appeared on the human's face.

This wing of the Great Night Hawk had just swung backward. That motion... was the windup for a forward flap.

2.03, 1.31

1.89, 1.55

The greatest gap between Hope and the Great Night Hawk was not actually their physiques, but agility. The agility Hope had always been most proud of was nothing before the Great Night Hawk.

This wing lashed out viciously. Compared to it, the wing that had just swung was so gentle it had been nothing more than a feint.

"Tah!" the Great Night Hawk shrieked excitedly.

Hope flew backward, sailing diagonally toward the rear left before crashing heavily into the rosebushes.

"Tah! Tah! Tah!"

The Great Night Hawk mocked Hope to its heart's content.

What an idiot. He had naively thought he could fool it with words, fool a predator!

But it vaguely sensed something was wrong... Judging from the sound, that human did not seem to have landed in mud?

The Great Night Hawk stopped calling. It suddenly remembered that when it had knocked the human away, the human seemed to have pushed against its wing... as though afraid he would not fly far enough...

It blinked and realized the human was no longer in its sight.

It flew up in fury, skimming low over the roses in an incredible posture. Its body was enormous, yet it was faster than Swift Hawk.

It...

Ah, it saw that human.

Ah, he was still there. It had reacted quickly enough and had not made a foolish mistake. There had not been nearly enough time for the human to escape.

But... the Great Night Hawk blinked... what was that?

The moment he landed, Hope knew his shirt was completely ruined. One sleeve had torn off, and after all the abuse it had endured, the back had finally torn as well. The skin, muscles, and bones beneath the holes all ached without end.

But all of it had been worth it.

The landing spot was perfect.

He had fallen onto a square wooden board made from joined planks.

This thing was harder than dirt, making him hurt even more, but...

Enduring the pain, Hope felt around the board. Other marks remained on it, left behind when Hope and Wilbur had fought. Directly beneath it was a rusty cast-iron handle.

There was no lock.

"Tah! Tah!" The piercing cries rang out.

The Great Night Hawk had caught up. Hope thought.

It had to be panicking. After all, it had just had half a roasted duck already in its beak.

But now, Mr. Roasted Duck was running away!

Hope yanked the board open with all his strength. Beneath it was a black opening whose contents he could not make out, though he could vaguely discern a wooden ladder.

"Tah!"

A gust of wind pressed down on Hope. He knew the Great Night Hawk was pouncing on him. It was desperate. This hunter, which had always been so composed, was finally no longer composed. It no longer cared about the consequences and wanted to seize its prey directly.

But Hope, the prey, did not turn back.

He stared at the pitch-black opening before him.

I hate wooden ladders, he thought.

Then he shielded his head and, pretending not to see the rotten ladder, jumped down amid the mingled stench of baked fowl and the fragrance of roses.

He did not have time to close the board. Behind him, the enormous bird finally descended. Its talons only cut a small wound across Hope's back. The wound did not hinder Hope in the slightest; instead, it made the bird cry out in pain.

"Tah! Tah!"

The Great Night Hawk shrieked furiously at the opening.

But Hope knew that was all it could do. It did not dare come down. The tunnel entrance, only wide enough for one person to pass through, was far too narrow for the Great Night Hawk. The underground space was a cage, one that instinctively terrified it as a bird.

All it could do now was make noise, providing an unpleasant accompaniment while Hope escaped.

"Hiss!" Hope bared his teeth. He felt that he had probably sprained his left ankle—or worse, broken his lower leg.

He quickly began to laugh.

Just look at what was in front of him.

A lovely underground space, damp and dark, with exposed earth all around. Several large wooden barrels stood beside the dirt walls, perhaps containing wine mash.

Crude and not particularly clean or tidy, but spacious enough for one person to be alone. It was filled with places beyond the Great Night Hawk's line of sight.

Hope waved at the Great Night Hawk, earning an even more unpleasant, furious shriek in return.

He tried to stand and failed. His left leg hurt too badly.

Hope took several deep breaths and decided to stop tormenting that leg. Half crawling and half rolling, he moved into the darkness. He leaned against the dirt wall, unable to see either the exit or the Great Night Hawk guarding it.

No people or other intelligent creatures were looking here. A perfect place to use "Uncertainty."

Hope closed his eyes and felt his body vanish from the wine cellar. The stench of baked fowl, the fragrance of roses, the damp smell of the cellar, and the Great Night Hawk's cries—everything was fading away.

"Tah! Tah!"

Hope never wanted to hear that sound again.

But another voice suddenly rang out:

"Help... help... let me go!"

A childish voice. It should have been a boy.

Troublesome little brat.

Wilbur had been right. Those boys would use stupid methods to prove their "bravery." The sound of Hope's gunshot had had the opposite effect on this little fellow.

He opened his eyes.

Everything at Old Williams Manor became clear again.