Chapter : 232
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Chapter : 232
"Hostile workplace!" Ken shrieked from his ridiculous arched position on the ground. "I am filing a complaint! There are labor laws!"
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Before Naomi could yell at him, Ken scrambled to his feet and pointed deep into the eastern brush.
"I am serious this time!" he said. His voice was urgent and excited at the same time. "I smell something over there! It smells like a campfire and roasted meat!"
The girls stared at him. Laxmi rolled her eyes so hard it looked painful. Zinia let out a long, tired groan. Sayma cleaned her glasses and pretended she had not heard him.
"He is hallucinating about a barbecue," Laxmi said. "The hunger has finally reached his brain."
"I am not hallucinating!" Ken insisted. He sniffed the air dramatically. "Smoke. Wood smoke. And meat. Definitely meat. Roasted meat with some kind of seasoning."
"There is no smoke," Ira said flatly.
"There is no meat," Zinia added.
"My nose does not lie," Ken said, tapping his nose proudly. "My nose is a gift. A treasure. My nose has never been wrong about food and it is not wrong now."
"Your nose has been wrong about everything your entire life," Naomi said. But she paused and looked toward the eastern brush. She sniffed the air carefully.
The other girls watched her. If Naomi smelled something too, that would be different. But she shook her head slowly.
"I do not smell anything," Naomi admitted.
Ken grabbed his chest like he had been stabbed. "Betrayed by my own team. My own people. I tell you there is food and you treat me like a liar."
"We treat you like a hungry fool," Laxmi corrected. "Because you are one."
But Princess Iris stepped forward. She looked at Ken, then at the eastern brush, then back at Ken. She made her decision quickly.
"We have no other leads," Iris said. "The map has failed us. We are lost. If Ken smells something, we follow his nose."
"You cannot be serious," Zinia said.
"I am completely serious," Iris replied. "What other choice do we have? Walk in circles for another three hours? Ken, lead the way."
Ken blinked. Then a huge grin spread across his face. "Finally! Leadership recognizes my talents! Follow me, ladies! Dinner awaits!"
He crashed into the eastern brush with zero grace. Branches snapped. Leaves flew. He tripped over a root and stumbled forward but somehow kept his footing.
The girls exchanged weary looks. One by one, they followed him into the thick foliage. Naomi went second, daggers ready, just in case. Ira followed, her water still gathered around her hands.
The brush was dense and difficult. Vines grabbed at their arms. Thorns scratched their skin. But Ken pushed forward with surprising determination, sniffing the air every few steps like a hunting dog.
"Left here," he said, ducking under a low branch.
"Right at this big rock," he added, squeezing past a boulder.
"Straight through this horrible thorny bush that I hate very much," he continued, yelping as a thorn caught his sleeve.
Nobody could explain it, but the jungle started to thin. The trees spread apart. The air felt different. And then, faintly, there was a smell. Just barely there. Smoke and something else.
"Wait," Laxmi said suddenly. She stopped and sniffed. "I smell it too."
Zinia sniffed. Her eyes widened. "That is wood smoke."
Sayma adjusted her glasses. "And something cooking. He might actually be right."
"I am always right about food!" Ken called back triumphantly.
They pushed through the last wall of brush and stepped into a large, open clearing. The sunlight hit them all at once after so long in the dim jungle. It took a moment for their eyes to adjust.
When they could see clearly, they all stopped.
It was a village. Small huts made of wood and leaves circled a central dirt area. A dead fire sat in the middle, its ashes still faintly warm. That was the source of the smoke smell.
But there were no welcoming smiles. No friendly waves. No campfire to sit around.
The Dimitri tribe stood in the clearing. Dozens of them. Men and women and even children. They stood perfectly still in complete silence. Their eyes glowed with an eerie purple light.
They were not free. They were enslaved.
Ken did not notice the purple eyes at first. He did not notice the absolute silence. He did not notice that nobody was smiling or moving or speaking. All he saw were people.
"Hello, wonderful villagers!" Ken called out happily. He stepped forward with a big wave. "Can any of you point me to the nearest restaurant? I will accept a kitchen. A pantry. A single stale cracker. I am not picky."
The tribesmen turned toward him in unison. Every single pair of purple eyes locked onto him. The silence was terrifying. Then they moved.
The closest tribesman lunged with terrifying speed. He grabbed a spear from the ground and thrust it straight at Ken's face. The motion was fast and precise and completely silent.
Ken saw the spear point coming right at his eyes. He froze. His brain stopped working. His legs refused to move. He could only watch the sharp tip race toward him.
Metal met metal with a sharp ring.
Naomi appeared between Ken and the spearman like a red flash. Her twin dagger had caught the spear shaft and deflected it to the side. The spear point missed Ken's face by a finger's width.
"Behind me," Naomi ordered. Her voice was hard but her eyes flicked to his face for just a second, checking that he was unharmed.
Then the whole village charged.
The clearing exploded into chaos. Tribesmen grabbed spears and axes and crude blades from the ground. They rushed forward in total, horrible silence. No war cries. No shouts. Just the sound of feet hitting dirt and weapons cutting air.
Laxmi met the first wave with both fists blazing. She caught a spear shaft and snapped it with one fiery punch, then drove her palm into the attacker's chest. The tribesman flew backward but rolled and came at her again immediately.
"They do not stay down!" Laxmi shouted.
Zinia stomped the ground and a wall of stone erupted from the dirt. Three charging tribesmen crashed into it and tumbled over. But more came around the sides, moving with eerie coordination.
Ira's water whip lashed out in rapid strikes. She knocked weapons from hands and swept feet from under bodies. Her movements were precise and efficient, but her expression showed something rare. Frustration.
"They are not fighting like normal people," Ira observed. "No strategy. No self-preservation. Just attack."
Sayma threw up barriers in front of the huts, protecting the smaller children who stood watching with their purple glowing eyes. Even they were enslaved, but they were too small to fight. She kept them safe behind shimmering walls of light.
Princess Iris moved through the battle with calm purpose. She was not the strongest fighter, but she was the clearest thinker. She directed the girls to cover each other's blind spots and hold their positions.