Chapter 192: Shadow of the Calamity
Helga crossed the fortress gates at the head of the reserve troops just as the roar of gunfire began to subside. Spotting the thick smoke rising between the homes, the chief of the Mountain Fortress lost no time in barking out orders to coordinate aid.
"Water bearers to the north sector homes!" Helga roared, pointing toward the flames with her axe. "Relief squads gather the wounded! Form the security perimeter immediately!"
The field before the gorge was a sea of metallic corpses, severed limbs, and fractured carapaces smoking against the gravel. Seeing the few surviving beasts begin to break formation and retreat into the depths of the pass, several soldiers, blinded by adrenaline and battle rage, broke into a sprint to hunt them down.
Noticing the recklessness, Brak stepped into their path and bellowed with a voice that shook the dirt beneath their feet:
"Halt! Stop! Do not pursue!"
Despite the bloodlust burning in their chests, the soldiers had been forged under iron discipline over the past months. The instinct to obey took over instantly; they stowed their weapons, stopped dead in their tracks, and returned in formation to join the main ranks.
From the battlements and village streets, the crowd broke the silence. Cheers and shouts of victory echoed across the entire fortress: the tribe had survived a calamity.
Until that day, no inhabitant of the city had witnessed beasts of such terrifying nature. In the past, whenever scouts and veteran hunters repeated that Ash Valley was strictly off-limits by direct order of the Shaman, many civilians and new recruits assumed these were merely stories designed to scare and control them. Today, after witnessing the tide of iron and lava firsthand, they grasped the scale of the threat.
In the eyes of his people, Kellar’s stature rose to an even more mystical and sacred height: he not only knew the horrors lurking in the shadows of the forbidden lands, but possessed the power to shield them from their fury.
Rescue squads began fanning out through the choking smoke in the courtyard, searching through the rubble for survivors.
"Get the wounded out of here! Everyone who can walk, search every single corner!" Vael barked, pointing his picks toward the collapsed walls. "Check everyone! Leave no one behind!"
Soldiers and hunters rushed to carry the fallen, but upon reaching the center of the village, sheer desperation froze them in their tracks. There was nowhere to put them. The fire ignited by the flamebirds had swept through with uncontrolled fury before being contained, reducing almost every wooden home in the main sector to ash. The few structures still standing were choked with thick smoke or on the verge of collapsing.
The aftermath of war consumed the settlement. Men and women sprinted in all directions clutching buckets of water, while others fashioned stretchers out of charred planks and torn blankets to lay the injured down in the middle of the muddy, soot-covered streets. Moans from the wounded mingled with the cries of frightened children and the crack of burning beams giving way.
Meanwhile, amid the dust and turmoil of the gorge, Krag opened his eyes. He ran his hands over his arms, staring at his smooth palms and restored skin. He stood up awkwardly, in disbelief, and locked his eyes on Kellar.
"How is this possible?" Krag asked, his voice raspy. "I’m certain I should have died in that explosion..."
"The Bear God kept you alive until I arrived," Kellar said, meeting his gaze with absolute gravity.
Krag let out a bitter sigh and shook his head.
"It seems my suffering is still not enough to satisfy the Bear God," Krag replied, clenching his fists.
Turning around, Krag’s eyes met Helga’s, who had arrived at the scene. Seeing him standing alive and well, Helga’s face went pale and the air grew uncomfortable. Her ex-husband was right there, restored, while she was now the Shaman’s woman. A wave of guilt washed over her, making her step back, speechless.
Krag, however, remained composed. He looked her in the eyes for a long second and broke the silence.
"I know everything," Krag told her quietly. "They made sure to repeat it to me every single day in that hell to show me my punishment."
Then he turned to Kellar and bowed his head slightly in respect.
"Great Shaman, I hope you take care of my ex-wife... do not betray her trust," Krag said.
Without waiting for an answer, Krag turned and began walking into the distance, moving slowly away among the rubble. Helga choked back a gasp and opened her mouth to call out, but stopped as she saw Kellar watching the scene, shaking his head.
What could Kellar say to him at that moment? Ask him to stay, just to keep humiliating him in front of everyone? Kellar chose to remain silent, letting the former hunter walk away with whatever dignity he had left.
Kellar walked over to her with slow steps, wrapped his arms around her, and pulled her close.
"Everything will be fine, it wasn’t your fault," Kellar reassured her.
Helga buried her face against the Shaman’s chest, her voice choking with tears.
"I was the one who offered myself to you... Great Shaman, I have tarnished your name," she confessed.
"Don’t say that," Kellar said, tightening his embrace with resolve. "Everything has been according to the Bear God’s will. Everything will be fine, nothing will change."
Helga didn’t want to admit it, but deep in her chest she felt a sense of relief. A guilty relief from no longer having to face her ex-husband every time she went down to the mines or every time the guards submitted a prisoner report.
Meanwhile, in the distance, Krag walked aimlessly along the stony trail far from the settlement. Suddenly, a white shadow emerged from the foliage and fell into step beside him. Freyja perched near his shoulder, and through the beast’s shamanic link, Kellar’s voice echoed inside the old hunter’s mind.
"You did well. Now go do what I told you," the voice transmitted.
Krag clenched his fists and nodded silently toward the feline.
"I understand, Great Shaman..." Krag muttered to the shadow. "Your order is my command."