Chapter 98: Unexpected Meeting 2
"Damn it!"
The sharp curse shattered the moment of awe.
Startled, the soldiers turned to see Jethru, his sharp eyes locked on the land below. His usual calm demeanor was gone, replaced by a flicker of anger.
"I can’t believe they burned the town hall," he muttered.
Alaric and his men followed his gaze. Far below, Carles’ town hall lay in smoldering ruin, its once-proud structure reduced to a blackened rubble. The remnant of smoke still curled into the sky, a ghostly reminder of the devastation.
Jethru wasted no time. "Let’s move," he ordered, his tone clipped.
He led them down the mountain with the confidence of a man who had traveled this path countless times. Mount Roca was mostly barren rock, unlike other mountains, with only a few hardy trees clinging to the slopes. The descent was relatively easy, their boots crunching against the uneven hard ground as they made their way downward.
After hours of careful navigation, they finally reached a flatter area—a tranquil plateau where a pine forest stretched out before them, a stream winding lazily through the trees. It was the perfect place to rest, and they intended to take a late lunch before continuing.
But as they stepped into the clearing, the air suddenly grew heavy with tension.
From the dense shadows of towering pines, figures emerged—silent as ghosts, their bows drawn, arrows nocked, each aimed with lethal precision.
Alaric’s soldiers gripped the hilt of their swords.