Chapter 162: The Red Forest Outpost
The smoke from the gunpowder still hovered over the outpost perimeter as the escort guards unchained the prisoners’ ankles and shoved them into the camp’s central square. The packed dirt floor was stained with fresh blood and the remains of charred beams from the recent skirmish against the red monkeys.
Lennis walked up to them with a firm stride, adjusting his leather belt where his battle axe hung. His face, smeared with soot and sweat, showed not the slightest hint of sympathy. He stopped two meters away from the group, scanning them from Nomre—who kept her teeth clenched in a resentful silence.
"I don’t know what you did to piss off the Shaman so much," Lennis said in a harsh, cold voice, "but this place is the worst place you could possibly be. Welcome."
The prisoners exchanged apprehensive glances. None dared to utter a word in the face of the officer’s menacing tone.
"I’ll give you some advice," Lennis continued, pointing with his arm toward the various cardinal points surrounding the camp. "Don’t try to run away. Over that way are the beasts of the Red Forest. Over that way are the ones from the Grey Valley, which are even more terrifying. Over that way is unexplored... you can go explore if you wish. And over that way is the river."
Lennis paused letting out a bitter laugh as he crossed his arms over his chest.
"As you can see, you are fucked and trapped," he stated. "We don’t need to tie you up or chain you. Any place other than this post at night is certain death."
Nomre’s three followers turned pale upon realizing there were no wooden bars or stone walls keeping them imprisoned: the continent’s nature itself served as their cell. Even Nomre, who usually boasted about her composure and raw strength, clenched her fists in frustration as she stared at the crimson jungle towering like an impenetrable wall just a few meters away.
"Starting today, you will earn your food through hard labor," added Brak, stepping up from the armory with a stack of logging tools over his shoulder. "Lennis will assign you clearing duties for the underbrush and rebuilding the defenses. If you work, you eat. If not, the night beasts aren’t picky about the meat they devour."
The three followers of Nomre broke down in tears, sobbing in anguish as they absorbed the terrifying reality of their natural confinement. Lennis watched them with a mocking smirk, and just as they took a step back, he snapped his fingers.
"Ah, I almost forgot," Lennis added with a malicious tone. "You’ll have dick every night. I want to see if in three days you aren’t begging me to return to the main village and pleading for forgiveness from the Great Shaman."
At that moment, the officer in charge of the armed escort stepped forward and handed him a sealed leather scroll.
"Here are the orders from the Great Shaman," said the officer.
Lennis broke the seal, unrolled the parchment, and scanned the lines quickly before nodding with approval.
"Excellent, we received the message this morning, we are aware," Lennis declared. "Report to the Shaman that in three weeks we will complete the mission."
"Understood. The Shaman awaits your return, Master Lennis," replied the officer, rendering a military salute before turning to his men.
The main caravan and the supply wagons remained at the outpost, since all resources from that shipment were meant to reinforce the Red Forest fortress defenses. For Nomre’s transfer toward the second settlement’s, only two armed guards were assigned to continue the journey on foot alongside her.
The trail toward the Mountain Fortress crossed through the ominous Ash Valley. The air there was dense, grayish, and suffocating. They had been walking for a few minutes when Nomre witnessed a chilling scene at the side of the path: a giant centipede with a gleaming red shell was devouring a giant dragonfly.
Nomre, whose bravado had collapsed after physical exhaustion and the [Curse of Pain], could not hold back a scream of panic. Terror paralyzed her to the point of wetting herself right then and there.
Upon sensing the smell of phosphorus from the urine, the giant centipede interrupted its feast, snapped its multiple legs around abruptly, and clicked its jaws open wide. Its red armor gleamed under the gloom as it lunged in a direct charge toward her.
"Holy shit! What is that?!" Nomre screamed in terror, trying to scramble backward awkwardly in her bound feet.
The two escorts reacted with the speed of trained veterans. Without losing their composure, both dropped a knee to the dirt in unison and aimed their rifles.
BANG!
The first shot bounced off the monster’s exoskeleton with a brutal metallic clatter, showering sparks into the dark. However, the second shot landed into one of the creature’s main eyes.
The centipede let out a sharp, deafening shriek as its long body writhed from the impact.
"Looks like this piece of shit bleeds too," said one of the soldiers with a cold smirk as he reloaded with practiced skill.
Injured and disoriented, the giant centipede turned around and bolted deeper into the Valley thicket. The soldiers didn’t bother pursuing it; instead, they grabbed Nomre roughly by the arms and dragged her forward without pity.
"Move," ordered the guard, giving her a violent yank. "We need to get out of here right now."
They finally arrived at the entrance of the Mountain Fortress, where the darkness of the tunnels and the smoke from the forges painted the landscape in a somber tone. The two guards dragged Nomre, whose filthy, exhausted feet could barely stand, to the administration office where Helga was reviewing production sheets.
Helga looked up, adjusting her leather belt as she inspected the prisoner from top to bottom. Her cold gaze swept over Nomre’s muscular yet broken frame, lingering on her soaked clothes and the terrified expression she still wore after the encounter in the Ash Valley.
"Helga," said one of the guards, handing her the Great Shaman’s order. "We bring the prisoner. The Shaman ordered her to the bottom of the iron veins."
Helga read the scroll and let out a bitter laugh, shaking her head.
"It’s a waste to put her in the mine," said Helga, tucking the paper away and looking at Nomre with disdain. "Take her to the camp of the former Black Skull Tribe slaves; they will have a lot of fun with the gift."
The guards nodded without objection, grabbing Nomre once more to divert her toward the outer barracks sector, while the woman realized with horror that her true punishment was only just beginning.