Chapter 373: Runaway
Chapter 373: Runaway
The next night was filled with an electric energy, the kind that sparked in the air and hummed in the hearts of those determined to overcome their failures. The soldiers, armed with the strategy Lyerin had outlined and a renewed sense of purpose, ventured into the dense woods under the veil of darkness. For hours, they moved with calculated precision, their footsteps silent, their senses heightened, and their hearts beating in synchrony with the rhythm of the night.
When they returned to the tribe just before dawn, they carried no trophy, no physical evidence of victory, but their faces glowed with a kind of triumphant energy. The fatigue that clung to them from previous failures seemed to have been replaced by a vigorous confidence, a fire that hadn’t been there before. Their armor was battered, and scratches marked their faces and arms, but their spirits were unbroken—if anything, they seemed stronger.
Lyerin was waiting for them, leaning casually against the central post of the camp, his arms crossed and his golden eyes gleaming in the dim firelight. He watched them approach with mild curiosity, his expression unreadable as always. He didn’t speak right away, letting the soldiers settle around him, their breaths heavy from exertion but laced with exhilaration.
One of the soldiers, a younger man whose face was still streaked with dirt and sweat, stepped forward, practically bursting with excitement. “Chief Lyerin,” he said, his voice loud enough to draw the attention of the entire camp, “we found it! Just as you said, near the stream, hidden in an outcropping of rock surrounded by dense foliage. We followed its trail and cornered it!”
The other soldiers nodded enthusiastically, their voices rising in agreement. “It’s fast, stronger than we imagined,” another chimed in, his eyes wide with a mix of awe and adrenaline. “But we fought it, together. It’s nothing like anything we’ve faced before—its movements are so deliberate, so precise. We gave it our all, every ounce of strength, every tactic we knew.”
“And?” Lyerin asked, his voice calm, his gaze steady. He tilted his head slightly, his expression as if he were both amused and testing them. “You returned empty-handed, so I assume it didn’t end well?”
The first soldier flushed slightly but didn’t falter. “It ran away,” he admitted, his voice losing some of its volume. “But not because it overpowered us! No, we had it cornered—it fled because it knew it couldn’t win! We drove it away, Chief. It’s scared of us now. We’re sure of it!”
Another soldier, an older man with a deep gash across his shoulder, stepped forward and added, “This isn’t like before. We’ve learned its patterns, its weaknesses. We’re working together like a real unit now, and it’s paying off. Tonight, we didn’t lose—we made progress!”
The group erupted into murmurs of agreement, their enthusiasm palpable. Even those who had been the most despondent a few days prior now stood tall, their eyes shining with hope and determination.